#(see you space cowboys and cowgirls)

[cowpokezuko]

Space Lesbians

[venushasvixens]

Chapter 24. Before We Go - Life is but a Dream (Spike Spiegel x Reader)

Word Count: 4.5k 

Warnings: none  

[A/N] well, its the beginning of the end of this fic! We got a lot to get through though, so don’t go nowhere. Enjoy! 

“You think or you know?”

“I know. An old dog still knows her way around.”

You and Spike crept into a small alleyway full of boxes and trash. It reeked of the materials that were thrown away, only a little illumination was shining through from the street lights. You looked out in front of you, noticing that familiar car in front of you.

The way the car was cruising, it was almost like it wanted you and Spike to catch up to it. You had to admit, having this place close to each other wasn’t that smart, but knowing the law in town, you really felt like they weren't too concerned about it. You really hope that you weren’t falling into a trap.

You walked on the tip of your feet, the small pap of your feet could be heard against puddles and pieces of trash. But from where you were, you doubt that he could’ve heard the creeping investigators on his back. From the outside, it looked like a warehouse, in the middle of nowhere. Brown, rusted. Broken down. The doors looked ragged. It looked like it had no business holding what you think it had. You remembered this place very clearly.

There he is.” You barely whispered, your lips just mouthing the words.

“Ah, you gotta be shitting me.” An old soldier, the one you always hated. Annoying, creepy, didn’t know anything about personal space.

“You know him?”

“Unfortunately.” You mumbled. “Perv.”

All the buildings surrounding were closed, no lights in their windows or the streets. Without a doubt, the syndicate bought them all out. Not suspicious at all.

You looked at the man as he stepped out and swung the door open, the door closing behind him with a loud ca-thunk.

“We’re going to wait this out.” You said, turning to Spike. “I still know how to get in.”

“Its been a while since you’ve been here, are you sure you do?” He asked. “For all we know, this place could be surrounded by traps. We could be in one as we speak.”

“I thought the same thing. But how could they know, Spike?” You said, putting your hand on his chest, your brows furrowed. He put his hand over yours and kept it there, looking at the hangar and back at you.

He sighed. “If he is not out in the next hour, we are gone. Understand?”

You nodded, your eyes searching your surroundings. It didn’t take long at all, to your delight. To get this done, and for you and Spike to be on their merry ways to Lou’s and back to the Bebop.  The door opened once more, and the man stepped out. He grunted, stuffing his keys back into his pocket and climbing into the car. Now it was time to get all of this over with.

“Good, I thought he was never going to leave.” Spike mumbled sarcastically, looking around the corner as the car drove away.

You purse your lips and made the first move, creeping into the shadows and towards the entrance of the warehouse. Your hands, thimble and quick, began to work on the lock. Spike swiveled on your back, hand on holster.

“For something so secretive, this is a flimsy lock.” You stated.

“Shouldn't it be open by now?” Spike said lowly again, looking over his shoulder at you. “Aren’t you an expert?”

“Working on it. You need to give me a second.”

“We don’t have any, (Y/N).” He mumbled, his eyes darting around.

You could tell he was a little anxious about this, or agitated that you both were still in Yun in the midst of enemies and danger. To have another situation ending with a shootout, or either one of you getting badly injured, would be another disappointment. You wanted to shake off the thought, but it had to be taken into consideration as you tried to break into the warehouse.

Spike was not too keen that the both of you were still stuck here. Just having to leave the streetlights into the deep darkness of this unknown city put him on a higher alert than ever.

He remembered just how hurt he was before. While he tried to process your lie, he realized that he was so focused on it that he completely forgot how he got into his ship. Mid air, he gripped onto his controller and tried his best to meditate on it. And it took him all day to process it.

Waves of emotions echoed in the small red ship, from anger to hurt, to sadness and somehow, back to happiness.

Anger from having something important kept from him.

Hurt from the aftermath, and dealing with the thought that it was out of love that this secret was kept under wraps. And the fact that you both almost died.

Sad that you were sad. If you kept something as big as this as a secret, would you be sad? No, no. There was no way that you were unfeeling. Spike had clearly seen every single one of them from you. A comm from Jet pinged in, confirming his latter belief.

[Jet] Told her. She is a mess.

And lastly, there was happiness. Why? Because you were feeling. You were not cold, or uncaring. Every fiber of your humanity was intact, thriving with every kiss, every punch, every tear that fell from your eyes.

From the beginning, this mission felt like a step further closer to the edge. You both were close in finding a way to keep the syndicate off of your trail. How long could you hold them off? What would damage them so badly, that there would be no syndicate at all. He knew there was something you were trying to prove, something to close the past for you forever.

If it was destroying just a fraction of what there was, the rest could follow suit. As much as it annoyed Spike about history and that “Art of War” crap that Jet sprinkled into morning conversations, he could remember something about the fall of Rome. It only took one little push, and the domino effect went into place. All fell, and the recovery was harder to conceive.

In this day and age, it was very easy to. Guns, armies, power. That’s all it took to annihilate life. You may have not had any of that right now, but…there just had to be a one, tiny, little push.

He loved your determination. He loved the way you put yourself out to fight for what you believed in, even if it scared him. Oh god, he didn’t want to say it again, but it was true. He was scared for you.

Conflicted in the beginning of your time together, whether it was right to fall in love again, or if to push himself away again. That was his fear when finding himself in love with you. It was the fear of losing you. He cringes at the thought, not wanting to imagine the moment and aftermath of your death. How lost he would be without the light in his life.

The close encounter on Earth shook him to his core. Your bloodied body sent shockwaves, feeling as if everything was going by so slow. The response from Jet and Faye could have been milliseconds, but for him it felt like eons. He reminded himself that his fear was the reason that he was here with you, by your side.

So he swallowed his fear and straightened himself out.

“Did you get it?” He gently said this time, reaching a hand on your thigh as he had his back turned on yours. A hum came from you as you fiddled with it even more.  The clanky jingle of the lock becoming free and dropping to the side confirmed this, and the short chuckle from you.

“There we go.” You pat his side, looking around. You turned to Spike and pushed his hat down further on his face, fluffing up his coat. His skin shivered at your cold fingers, but he let her do whatever she wanted to him. Maybe skin to skin was better than a cigarette to calm his nerves.  “I’m going in for a minute. Only for a minute.”

“Do you want me to come?” He asked, tilting his head as his eyes bore into yours.

You shook your head. “It won’t take me long at all. Its just a quick look around, but until then, you know what to do. Stay hidden, and stay quiet. Understand?”

Seeing you give demands, as serious as it was, turned him on. Wasn’t the best place to have a feeling, but the way your tone was and just how beautiful you looked, he couldn’t help it. As you turned to open the door, Spike whisked you back to face him, his arm around your waist.

“What, what’s wr-“ you began, only to feel Spike’s wanting lips on yours, his arms just holding onto you. Oh how he kissed you. It was hungry, full of emotion and want. You couldn’t help but moan softly from how it felt, being kissed so sweetly by Spike.

You found yourself gripping onto his coat, almost sneaking yourself into his coat. Opening your eyes, you found a hazy gaze staring right back at you, a smirk growing from Spike’s lips. You breathed hard, shaking your head softly.

“That was for luck.”

“Well, umm….” You began as you tried to catch your breath. “I-if you keep doing this, we may just have to go on more missions together.”

“Stay in my room tonight and I’ll show you more.”

You pressed your lips together, getting mad at yourself for not focusing on the task at hand. You really hoped there was nothing to look at so you could make it back to Spike quicker. Would be a waste of time and resources, but fuck it.

On your heels, you opened the door slowly. The inside was barely lit, with a few lights illuminating the corners of the warehouse. You put your sunglasses on, with your gun out. Holding it by your side, you crossed over the threshold.

You bent your head down, eyeing the odd shapes that were single filed lines in front of you. You just needed a closer look.

The platform along the walls of the warehouse creaked, causing you to jump.

The main floor, if you could remember, only held cars and ammo. Nothing bigger than that. A few ships were in tow, but even that was a lot.

Your ventures never left Mars, and if they did, it was on bigger missions with more supplies that you think you could’ve lived without.

Despite it being chilly outside, there was a deep mist in here, floating all throughout the air.

That was odd.

You squint your eyes as you take baby steps in, taking note of the multiple boxes of ammo and equipment that was just ready to be unveiled and used on any poor soul. That was normal.

You walked down the initial platform you were on, to the main floor below. Those were machines? They were so small though…

But a closer look revealed a lot more. Sheets covered the weird shapes, cloaked in obscurity. You pulled one back, observing the details of what laid before you.

Their shape was just so odd. Circular, single rider. Multiple machine guns built on both sides. You noticed black bars on both sides as well. God this looked so well made, it looked like it would have cost a fortune just for the one. You took out your wrist scanner, allowing it to take a glance over the small carrier. Once downloaded, you back up.

This was a lot different from the modes of transportation from your day.

But…there is absolutely no way this was in their budget. Machine ships with such care and quality. Then you backed up, onto the platform. Single filed lines…more than you can count. From the outside, the warehouse looked a lot smaller, but inside, it was as big as a football field.  

In the darkness, you could see there was more than you thought there was. Machines of death and destruction, waiting to be used at any given moment. This wasn't what you remembered, it was worse. There was something far sinister that they had in store. You knew they were just finding an excuse to use these things, to test out their damage. You breathed heavily, and rushed to the door.

This syndicate was bigger than you thought it was. And they were ready for any war, at any time.

A message was already sent back to the Bebop, notifying Jet of what you had seen. Immediately, he was on the job. “Did you find what you needed?”

“And more.” You spoke, shaking your head softly. “We’re making a pit stop and we’ll be back soon.”

After showing Spike what you had seen, hastily as you both rushed away from the area around the warehouse, he shook his head. You both spoke in hushed tones about what it was all for. You had your theories, as well as he did. But one thing was absolutely clear.

You had to get thinking. And quickly.

One step ahead.

Avoiding bringing the Bebop even near any settlement that was remotely close to Yun was a first. Staying in your own lane, not bounty hunting for a while. Running from the past, and the past catching up to you seemed to be a running trend nowadays.

This was going to be a group discussion for sure.

With a goodbye, you and Spike approached the diner closer, his careful gaze searching the area. “Are you sure she’s here?”

The lights outside of the diner were shining as bright as they did so long ago.

The outside, although shrouded by more buildings and trees, was still the same. Some corners were withered, but with character. The inside was lit, the open sign flickering. There was Lou, flipping the window shutters closed. You could feel your heart beam in happiness, wanting to just run inside and hold onto her. You noticed the hours were shortened.

She is someone you need to talk to, especially now. You smiled, seeing now that she had never changed. She was still perfect to you. “Uh-huh.”

You both glanced at each other before heading up to the entrance. You turned to Spike, fluffing up his collar again and brushing the hair from his ears. “There we go…nice..”

“What are you doing?” He asked, his eyebrows lifting as he trailed your hands over his face and coat, smoothing them both out.

“Making you look presentable.” You said flatly, taking another look over. You brushed his eyebrows with your thumbs, feeling the deep rumble of Spike’s mumbling against your chest.

“Does my rugged appearance not charm you?” He mumbled, his deep tone gravel as he pouted. “My character is built off of it.”

“Mother figures don’t like rugged, they like straight.” You replied, winking at him slyly. Puffing air out, you took that as a gesture of understanding your little tease. From behind, you could hear him fiddling with his collar. Opening the door to the diner, you stepped in first, head down. Your sunglasses covered your eyes, hiding most of your face.

Spike followed suit.

“Hello, hello.” You heard from the waitress as you both walked in. She sighed rather loud, setting the rag she was wiping the counter with on the shelf below.

You saw Jeanie, older than she was many years ago. Her hair was still pinned back in a bun, her face weathered by time and still, sharp. You could feel her attitude from all the way outside of the diner. Somehow, as offstandish she was to you, a smile from her was just as good as a hug.

Distracted with putting plates up, and cleaning the counter, she spoke with her eyes down, distracted by her closing work. “What can I get you lovebirds today?”

“I’m not too sure. What are your specials today?” You asked, your voice low. “Afraid I only have this much today.”

You threw a couple of woolong coins on the counter, the loud clatter of the metal bounced off the diner, echoing. Wincing at the sound, you looked towards the waitress, who scowled at the rude gesture. Wasn’t too nice to have the same done to her all those years ago, but maybe it would help her remember.

She took one look at the coins, and huffed. “That isn’t even enough for a plate.”

“But its all I got.”

“Sorry, no can do.” She insisted. “The door is right over there…” She took a glance at you, and took a double take, her face dropping. You smiled, taking off your glasses.

“Oh, oh my god.” She said breathlessly. “Oh my god, (y/n)!” She yelled. She ran around the corner of the counter and threw her arms around you. You were surprised that she could even show this type of affection towards anyone. Happily, you hugged her back, chuckling. “Lou! Get your behind out here!”

Spike gave a small smile, happy to see that you were. He put his hands in his pockets, and stepped back for this reunion to play out.

“What?” You heard. “What's going on?” You pulled back, looking at the entrance of the kitchen doors, your face lighting up. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Jeanie turn off the neon sign and lock the door. The lights on the outside were off, and so were the ones in the cafe, except for a few. Something told you that Jeanie knew about the trouble of being here, and of being caught.

Out came Lou, her apron off and the front strands of her hair pulled back. She never changed. She was just as beautiful as the day you left. She put her hand over her mouth, tears welling in her eyes. Remembering that you were in front of her, she held out her arms, and you jumped into them. Her hug was warm, her hands holding onto her shoulders tightly.

It was just like how you remembered.

“This is a face that I thought I’d never see again.” She said softly, planting a tiny peck on your head.

“I’m so glad to see you again.” You replied, smiling big.

“Me too, sweetie.” She wiped away the tear from her eyes, chuckling the same as you. “I shouldn’t cry, I got makeup on.”

You all laughed, putting your arm around her. “And who is this young man right here?” She asked, raising her eyebrows. She gave a knowing glance, her face telling you all she wanted to ask. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, and held out your hand to Spike.

“This is Spike. He and I are together.” You said, your heart beating even more as you said that. To say it to someone you knew, it made it official. “Spike, this is Lou. She helped raise me since I was at the orphanage.”

Spike knew how to make this sweet. He took off his hat, and held out his hand. “How are you, miss?” He said, giving that signature sweet smile.

“Gosh, miss. Haven’t heard that in a minute. ” Lou said, giggling. She took his hand gratefully, shaking it. “I’m doing well, Spike. “Oh, (y/n), you picked out a pretty one. Good hair, really nice smile.”

You raised your eyebrows, at Spike, almost like you were saying, “what did I tell you?”

“Oh no no. He picked me.” You glanced at him, who gave you a small wink. After all this time, you could’ve crumbled right there in front of all of them.

“Now, I have to ask you. What brings you back to Yun?” Lou said, folding her arms. “I mean, I haven’t seen you since all of that went down.”

You sighed softly, hoping that she had enough time to hear what you had to say. “You got some coffee?”

“Plenty of. That long?” She asked. You nodded.

Sitting down, you started from the moment that you left. Planet after planet, bounty after bounty, hiding from Red Jack’s. Those moments where your ship was not worth looking through, the voices echoed on Mars of the syndicates on the rise. You went into great detail of trying to build yourself back up, getting your own ship and having your own home.

Even though it was a distant memory, it was a very special marker for you. Independence, finally being on your own and at peace.

“And now.” You said, sighing, preparing yourself for what you were about to say. “The reason why I am here is that they found me.”

Lou’s eyes widened, her hand on her chest. “Because you left?”

Nodding, you continued. “They found me. There was a shootout on Earth not too long ago, and I almost died.” You pulled up your sleeve and showed the scar of where the bullet had grazed you. Lou winced, shaking her head. “Had it not been for Spike, I would not be here.”

“I’m glad you were there, honey.” Lou said to Spike, patting his hand. “So glad.”

“So now, we are here to find out what exactly Jo has in store. We found something, but I’m not ready to set off alarm bells just yet.”

“I have plenty to say about that horrible woman.” Lou grumbled, taking a sip of her coffee. “I just didn’t know it was going to get this far.”

“Me either.” You replied. “Either way, I just want you to be on the lookout in case anything happens. You didn’t see anything, you didn’t hear anything, and you didn't speak anything. Even me being here is not the best, but I just had to you both.”

“I don’t care. As long as I know you’re alive and well, that is all that matters.” She nodded. “Now, tell me about this one.” She pointed over to Spike, humming to herself as you beamed. This ought to be good.

Spike listened intently, sitting at the booth beside you as you began to talk about your first meeting with him.

“Well, you’re not going to like how we first met, I will say.” You said, taking a sip of coffee.

“Try me.” Lou replied.

Spike sat back, crossing his arms. This ought to be good.

“Don’t worry, sweets, I’m not going to spill every detail.” You reassured him. Lou and Jeanie laughed, giving your hand a light smack. “I was chasing a bounty that had a large sum of woolong included in the reward. I was creeping up on the ship, when someone, not naming any names, threatened to take me out.”

“Take you out? Well why is that so bad-“

“No, Lou.” Jeanie said firmly, making a gun gesture with her hand. “Take her out.”

“Ohhhh. Oh.” She grimaced, nodding. “Okay, I see now.”

“We talked it through, and had some ups and downs.” You said, flashing back to all the times you had first argued and avoided each other. To the times you had spent sleepless nights in his room, wrapped in his embrace. Finally, now. Forgiveness, and moving on from the nightmare that overcame the both of you. “And here we are.”

Lou smiled. “Well I’m glad you’re happy, darling. I really am. I think that was something you needed all along.”

“What, a boyfriend?”

“No. Love.” She said. You both shared a knowing look, dating back years.

It told you the struggle you had been through, from how the love you first perceived at both the orphanage and from Jo was not true. It was just a ploy, another step in their scheme. Even if you didn’t love yourself in that period, or even now, it was still there. From Lou, a motherly love was unlike no other.

And from Spike…that was the love you always wanted. Someone who understood you, stood by your side when times were rough, and was willing to go to the ends of the galaxy to be with you.

Spike couldn't help himself. His admiration for you felt like it was going to burst out of his chest. Loving you was so easy, so peaceful. For a moment, he forgot where you both were and why you were in Yun. It honestly felt like meeting her mother and sitting down for some coffee, like normal people do. He just loved you so much.

He leaned over, planting a kiss on your cheek. His lips lingered for a moment, a smile enveloping in his kiss.

“Well isn't that sweet?” Lou said. “Oh, those were the days..” Lou sighed dramatically.

“She says that, like she doesn’t have a boyfriend of her own.” Jeanie added. Lou elbowed her softly, pressing her lips together. They both began to bicker, insults thrown between the both of them. You and Spike just watched as they both laughed from their shots from one another, your hand reaching for his.

“Ready to go home?” He whispered in your ear.

“I’m already home.” You whispered back, looking deep into Spike’s soul.

Your home, where you belonged, was right beside you. Holding your hand.

“Now these pancakes..” The red haired woman spoke through bites, nodding. “These pancakes are always delicious. No matter the day.”

She took a sip of her coffee, and let her utensils clank against the plate. She dabbed at the corners of her mouth and hummed. “I tell you, Lou, you are just the best.”

Her bodyguard that stood behind her was still, like he was a mannequin. Lou took notice of how quiet it was besides the hums of the refrigerators and the oven in the back. She also noticed just how hot her face was, and the grip on her cleaning rag.

“I’m glad you liked it.” She took the plate and put in a plastic bin, her back to Jo just a second. “Anything else I can get you?”

Jo had her hands clasped in front of her, one of those polite, unnerving smiles on her face. Her red lips were pressed together as she just stared at Lou. It was like she was frozen, just holding her gaze on her for so long. The seconds ticked by slowly, neither of them moving an inch.

“You know…some chocolate pie is nice.” She finally said. “And another moment of your time.”

Lou nodded, grabbing a slice and setting it in front of Jo. She carefully placed a fork next to her on a napkin.

“Any troubles?” Lou tried to grin as happily as she could, but it was damn near impossible. She already knew what she was going to ask.  “I’ve been told I could be a good therapist if I wanted to.”

“I sure hope so.” Jo said, twirling her fork against the plate, small scraping sounds heard as she did.

“Got any new visitors lately?”

-

Peace always comes and goes.

-

[sierrale8ne]

paige bueckers x fem!reader

nsfw // car sex, exhibitionism, p calls the reader ‘miss’ a few times, dom!paige, sub!reader, thigh riding.

save a horse ride a cowgirl ;) happy halloween 👻

everybody say thank you @patscorner for the inspo!

Going out to a block party for Halloween was honestly not where you expected to be, but it was way more fun than expected.

They UConn girls had dragged you out, your girlfriend dropping a costume on your bed and telling you to get dressed. So you did both. Fitting on the frilly white dress and pink corset that made up your Bo Beep costume.

You and your closest friends had been there for some time, Paige and her teammates being late as per usual. But as soon as you saw her tall frame, teammates by her side, it didn’t take much for you to walk up and drag her away from the other athletes.

It was cold in Connecticut this type of year, but you sucked it up just to get a look at your girlfriends face when she saw yoi with your hair done up and makeup done, the stockings on your legs and lace garters inching up your thighs.

“You tryna kill me?” Paige asked, eyes taking in your body like you were a piece of meat.

“Hi, Woody.” You teased, hooking your white staff around her arm as you take a step towards her.

Paige’s jeans hung low, yellow and red flannel cut raggedly to show off her abdomen in true Paige fashion. She looked gorgeous. Blonde hair freshly touched up and flowing in the wind under her cowboy hat.

She reached to hold your waist, licking her lips. “You gotta start trustin’ me more. This was a wonderful costume idea.” She says, tooting her own horn a tad too much.

“Maybe. You look sexy in this, cowgirl.” You tell her. “You wanna come with me for a second?” You ask with a tilt of your head. When she looks in that direction to see your car parked a block away, Paige is instantly intrigued.

“You promise to make it worth my while, miss?” Her voice is so sultry, pulling you into her as if she herself could intoxicate you.

The nod and bite of your bottom lip is all she needed to allow you to grab her hand, dragging her toward the secluded parking space where your Chevy sat soundly. She let out a low whistle as you walked, the fat of your ass peaking out from the bottom of your short dress.

By the time you reach the car, she’s opening the backdoor, taking a seat with her legs still out of the car. Her body is bent over towards you, your legs looking absolutely magicals she just had to reach for them.

When Paige finally looks up at you, you get a glimpse of the toothpick just hanging from her lip.

“You’re too into this costume, baby.” You giggle, taking a step towards her.

Your left leg fits snuggly between her legs, the other pressing perfectly against the side of her muscular thigh. She leans back ever so slightly when your hands meet her shoulders. Paige’s head tilts back to look at you, biting her bottom lip as her hand trails to situate her comfortably on her thigh.

“You’re not?”

“Mmm, I didn’t say that. I’m very into this costume.”

Paige flicked the toothpick from between her lips, the small piece of wood biting the asphalt below. “You know the saying? Save a horse, ride a cowboy, or whatever?” She asked.

“What about it?” Your eyes go low as you take her all in, the scent of her perfume combined with her utter sexiness was an unreal combination and you were just a girl.

She grabbed hold of your hips, then, changing her mind and reaching under your dress with her hand, the door of your car still opened.

Her fingertips met your core, wet and warm off of less than five minutes with her. Paige pulls the material to the side, tsk-ing at the material. Red and lacy, like you were planning on getting the blonde in your pants before you had put your costume on.

“Think you should show me how you ride me, miss.”

Your leg rests on the leather of your car seats, your white cowboy boots enough to make Paige fall out. Your other leg moves as well, just enough to force your knee onto Paige’s core. Enough to make her body tremble, but not enough to do anything; you were a tease, she’d make you pay for it at home later.

The blonde grabs onto your hips, pulling you down on her strong, jean clad muscle. You gasp, her jeans rough on your cunt.

You’re giving her a show. The way your head tosses back makes her want to sink her teeth into your neck like a vampire. Claw you up and mark you like she was a werewolf. She wanted to fuck you till you were screaming and crying bloody murder, whether it was in the comfort of the bedroom or right here with your door wide open.

It felt good, too good. Your clit running back and forth, coupled with the way she gripped your hips until they bruised.

“Holy shit, Paige.” You whimper, you hung onto her shoulder with one hand while you gripped the top of the car with the other.

She lifted up the tail of your dress, holding the fabric up by your breasts. Your lower half is exposed and it makes you shiver. “You like that, ma? Make that pussy feel so good, huh?” She questioned.

You nod, your breath reduced to choppy whimpers. The fact that anyone could see you was exhilarating, and Paige was only adding to it. Your hips move faster, chasing that high. Your speed pushes your knee into Paige’s cunt repetitively, and she’s groaning in your face, helping you get there.

“Ha—yes. Fuck yes!” You should keep it down, be cautious of who could be looking over and watching you get off on your girlfriend’s thigh, but it just felt so good.

“You leakin’ on my thigh, miss. Makin’ me so messy.” She looks down at the dark spot on her already dark wash jeans. “Turns you on, huh? You like bein’ a slut on my thigh, baby? In front of all these people?”

Each word gets you wetter until you can’t even look in her direction anymore. Your neck drops into her neck, drool slipping past your lips and down till it hit her collarbone. Paige leaves your hip to grip your neck instead, a slight pressure that only increases until she’s closing your lungs as if she wanted to kill you. It was hot. So unbelievably hot.

She reaches to take the hat off of her head, blonde hair now disheveled at her crown. Paige places it on yours, slightly lopsided as you rode her faster.

Her lips are pressed dangerously close to your ear as she chokes you within an inch of your life. “Y’know I could make you feel so much better than this? How good my tongue would feel.”

“I—gonna— fuck, baby.”

“Could strap you so damn good. Right here too. Show all these people how sexy you look when you cum. When you throw it back on me ‘til this pussy is cryin’ for me.”

“Please.” You beg for God knows what.

“Can I have it, ma?” Paige teases, sending a bite to your earlobe. “Have you make a mess on my shit. Please?” She asked.

“Gonna— fuck, fuck, fuck, ‘m gonna cum!” You nod. Your hand falls from the car to the window next to you for stability. You ride Paige’s thigh harder, grinding your clit against the material until it was sore. A gasp for air leaves your lips when she finally lets go of your neck and slaps your ass harshly.

When your orgasm hits, it’s like a giant tidal wave, nearly making you fall out of the car if it wasn’t for Paige holding you and helping you though it. Your legs tremble against her before you fall back into her embrace, cursing up a storm.

Paige feels your arousal seep through until it hits her bare thigh. “I didn’t know riding a cowgirl could make you cum like that.” She jokes, kissing your temple as you catch your breath.

“Shhh. Don’t make this weird.”

“I’m not! You’re the one with the freaky ass role play kink, not me.” Paige pulled your dress back down, your panties over your cunt that was covered in your own cream. She was right, you were messy, and the spacious wet patch on her leg proved it.

“Sorry ‘bout your jeans.”

“S’no problem, baby.” She shrugged, following that up by scooting her body further into the car and laying back against the seats. “While it dries you should show me what else you can ride.” Paige adjusts your body with hers, pulling you into the car and over her lap, waiting for you to finish and scoot onto her face.

“Oh my God, let me shut the door.”

kalena speakss 🪽! this is not edited but enjoy and HAPPY HALLOWEEN 🙂‍↕️

[yunhoszn]

save a horse, ride a cowboy

PAIRING jeong yunho x f!reader

WORD COUNT 12.25k

GENRES fluff﹒angst﹒smut

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, reader is a city girl but i tried not using too many gendered terms, cowboy!yunho RAHHHHH, mentions of food, reader has a boyfriend for most of the fic (an oc) but there’s no real infidelity, reader embarrasses themselves on what i’d say is a few occasions too many, yunho is down bad, masturbation (m! and brief f! receiving), lowkey voyeurism, a really bad dad joke, horse riding scene bc i feel that’s pivotal for a cowboy fic, lots and lots of kissing, marking, teasing, vaginal fingering x2, oral sex (f! receiving) x2, multiple orgasms, very slight edging, praise, pet names (baby, babe, and princess oops), unprotected sex (BE SAFE PLS I BEG), cowgirl position, pull out method, missionary position, creampie lol, ending is cute but also kinda up for interpretation? i guess <3

SUMMARY when your grandparents decided to retire and take a summer’s long vacation in celebration, they leave their house in your care. at least you don’t have to worry about feeding the farm animals. but you do have to worry about the tall, handsome cowboy who does.

MORE AND SHE’S DONE oh my god, this fic actually pulled so much out of me i think i was the one seeing stars by the end.. 😭 but i’m so proud of it and the goals i tried meeting while writing. first of all the length??? insane for me. i can hardly get myself to write anything longer thank 5k 😞 THATS ENOUGH ABOUT ME THO,,, this fic was heavily inspired by the django performance if u couldn’t tell by the banner 😝 and i’d first like to thank the academy aka @kimsohn for encouraging me to write this and fueling my delusions ilysm maya <3 i’d also like to give a huge thank u to @bro-atz TYSM FOR BETAING AND HELPING WITH SCENES BRO ur my life saver fr <3 PLS PLS PLS REBLOG IF U ENJOYED!!

Growing up, you weren’t the biggest fan of trips to your grandparents’ farm in the rural countryside. 

You were born in a big city, full of all the glitz and glam. There were bright lights that lit the skyline at night, distracting from the stars that illuminated above. The wide open space was blocked by high towers and large skyscrapers. You were accustomed to the sound of bustling pedestrians and the obnoxious honking of cars in the streets. There was seldom an evening of complete silence. 

Everything was so tightly packed together, within walking distance if you didn’t feel like hopping in a car for a fifteen minute drive. You appreciated the insanity of the train station in the mornings before school, the metro so busy with students and working class individuals. You came into contact with numerous strangers throughout your day to day life. 

However, every summer until you were a senior in high school was a different story. 

Your parents wanted to keep you humble, you supposed, shipping you off to your grandparents’ for three months. Living in the city kept people too sheltered, too primped and polished for the real world. They wanted you to have that exposure, to experience what it was like to live without the fanciness of urbanization. The nine months out of the year that you spent in the city stunted that exposure, though.

When you’d arrive at their farm, luggage stacked like you were taking a trip to London or Paris, you felt like a glorified version of Regina George. Maybe Blair Waldorf. Elle Woods? You weren’t even rich like that. Your parents were nice, middle class people. There was just something about cow manure and the fear of stepping on a freshly laid egg that made it difficult to adjust to the setting.

It was most likely your stubbornness throughout your childhood that held you back even as you got older and more educated. You thought after graduating high school, the three-months-long “retreat” would come to an end. You’d only need to visit when necessary, maybe a week max. And that was true to an extent. During your university years, you only visited the farm around once a year. You were too consumed with school to even go home sometimes. 

And then your grandparents decided to retire. 

Their farm had supplied the town over with produce and other home-grown items for as long as you could remember. But they were getting older and no one in the family was willing to inherit the farm or its responsibilities. In celebration of their retirement, they planned a grand vacation to visit multiple countries. Their itinerary spanned an entire summer, just like your trips to the farm when you were younger.

Because you were the only one familiar enough with the area, they enlisted you to housesit while they were gone. You tried to get out of it, but they didn’t trust anyone else as much as you, despite your convictions about country life. So you reluctantly agreed, packing up your things to prepare for another grueling summer at the farm one last time. 

But there was a bit of a setback.

”What do you mean someone’s living in the farmhouse behind their house?” You shriek into the receiver, holding your phone between your shoulder and ear as you zip up your final bag. Your mom sighs on the other end.

”Your grandma just only now told me, apparently it slipped her mind,” you can hear the sympathy in her tone. “He’s this boy who grew up in the town and he’s gonna take over the farm for them on the condition that they still live on the property. She said he shouldn’t get in your way and he’s expecting your presence. You’ll only see him if you ever actually go out to the farm and when he brings groceries to the house.”

”Great. Another thing I didn’t sign up for.” You mutter, giving your bedroom a once over to make sure you’re not forgetting anything. “Is there anything else I should know before I get there, like a secret pet or maybe a family living in the attic?”

”Watch the attitude, Y/N,” she warns, and you shut up immediately. “Look, I know this isn’t ideal. You’re a grown adult and you’d rather spend your summer going out with your friends, but you already told your grandparents you would do this for them. It’ll be over before you know it.”

You sigh, nodding even though she can’t see it. At least you didn’t have to worry about caring for their farm animals. It was time to think of this as a staycation rather than torture. Sure, your friends were going to be living it up in the Bahamas for a week and your boyfriend was going to be here while you were surrounded by nothing but flat landscape for acres. 

Perhaps it was good for you that there would be someone else on the property. You might’ve started to feel scared being alone in the middle of nowhere for so long. Though, your boyfriend probably won’t be the biggest fan of you staying within the vicinity of another man for three months. You’d just deal with that later. 

The drive to your grandparents’ farm is actually more peaceful than anything else. Driving for long periods of time wasn’t your favorite thing to do, but doing it by yourself with nothing but your music filling your ears was a sort of therapy. It allowed you to come to terms with your fate for the summer and what it could entail, even if it wasn’t exactly what you had in mind. 

Seeing the lush greenery for miles upon miles as you neared their home evoked a sense of tranquility within you. If you kept a positive outlook on your situation, you would make it through these next few months unscathed and your sanity still intact. Maybe you despised the wide open space for years when you were a kid, but now that you’re an adult, you think you could learn to appreciate it and its beauty. 

As long as the guy living in the farmhouse didn’t bother you like your grandmother said, everything would be��

Oh. 

You pull up in front of the house, already thrown for a loop by the tall, very handsome stranger walking his dog back from the mailbox. His dark hair obscured his eyes, a bandana tied around his neck to match with the one hanging off the Border Collie’s collar. The two turn around at the sound of your engine, stopping in their tracks once you’ve parked. 

He brings a hand up to shield the sun from his eyes, watching cautiously as you park slowly. You don’t know why you’re so anxious, it’s not like you’ll be interacting with him much during your stay anyways. There’s something about his slender figure and the fact that he was so clearly dedicated to what he does upon first glance that it makes you feel shy. You suck in a sharp breath before deciding to exit your vehicle, wiping clammy palms on your denim shorts. You’re starting to regret not dressing a little cuter, a little more presentable. 

His features soften upon recognizing you, the pretty granddaughter that your grandparents showed him prior to leaving for their trip. The hand sheltering his face falls to his side and he gives you a warm smile, somehow warmer and brighter than the sweltering summer sun. You’d always been told not to talk to strangers, to keep your distance for your own safety, but you can’t help mirroring his expression with a small wave. 

“H-Hi,” your voice wobbles and you kind of want to die just a bit. “I’m Y/N. My grandparents mentioned you lived in the farmhouse out back, but didn’t give me a name or face to expect.”

He extends his arm out and you shake his hand, albeit slightly nervously. His eyes squint when he glances between you and his dog. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Y/N. I’m Yunho, and this is Yeoreum.”

The name is fitting for the red and white colored Border Collie, her tongue sticking out as she stares up at you with big eyes that almost resemble her owner’s. You bend down to pet her, patting the soft tufts of fur on her head and appreciating her licks of excitement. Yunho laughs, whistling to catch her attention. 

“Yunho and Yeoreum,” you repeat, a tiny grin on your face. “Befitting. Does she come with the property?”

“Unfortunately, no. She’s spoken for,” he teases, a pout on his features. “But she can visit whenever you’d like. Jokes aside, did you need any help moving stuff into the house?”

”That would be great, actually!” You scratch the back of your neck, lips pursing. Yunho waits for you to unlock the trunk of your car and places Yeoreum’s leash in your possession, making quick work transporting your bags inside. What was just supposed to be some light assistance, has evidently become him doing everything on his own while you stand and look pretty with his dog.

You didn’t bring too much with you since you didn’t have plans to leave while you were housesitting and your grandparents weren’t so old fashioned that they didn’t have a washing machine. Still, you felt useless allowing this stranger you’d just met to do all this manual labor on your behalf.

”Does he always do this?” You murmur to the Border Collie, falling to a seat on the lowest front porch step. She doesn’t give you a response (not that you expected her to), but pants happily in lieu of one, craning her head so you can scratch the spot behind her ear. 

“You’re a guest, it’s just good hospitality for me to help.” Yunho says as he comes out of the house, stationing himself in front of you with his hands on his hips, thumbs in his belt loops. 

“There’s a difference between helping and doing the work yourself. You’re just being modest,” you push yourself up to hand him Yeoreum’s leash. “But thank you anyway, that was really nice. I’m so tired from driving up here, so I think I would’ve collapsed doing all that back and forth.”

”You should go rest,” he glances at the house behind you. “There’s a whole three months of farm life ahead of you, so don’t wear your pretty little self out just yet.”

Yunho salutes to you and takes his leave, walking around your grandparents’ house toward what you assume is the farmhouse. Your eyes are wide and your cheeks feel hot, and you’re well aware that it’s not because of the summer heat. Your fingers clutch at the material of your t-shirt and you shake it to fan yourself. 

It seemed like you were in for a bumpy ride these next few months. But like you reiterated prior to arriving, everything would be just fine so long as you and farm boy went your separate routes and lived your separate lives. 

Yeah. Things would be alright. You hope. 

It’s a week into your stay on your grandparents’ farm when you bump into Yunho again. 

You’re toweling your neck after getting out of the shower, heading into the kitchen to make yourself another bowl of cereal for breakfast. So far the only downside has been your inability to cook a decent meal. Takeout or your boyfriend sleeping over were usually your saving grace, but without having either of those options, you’ve stuck to microwaveable things.

The sight of Yunho unloading groceries onto the counter has you squealing and nearly jumping out of your own skin. He flinches at your volume, knocking over the bag of rice resting against the vase in the center. Thankfully it was still sealed shut, if not there would’ve been a mess of rice grains all over the island counter. His clumsiness has you slapping a palm over your mouth to silence your giggles, not wanting to embarrass him.

”Sorry, I wasn’t expecting you…” You apologize sheepishly, folding your towel over your arm and placing it on a barstool nearby. 

“N-No, you’re fine! I shouldn’t have just let myself in, it’s kinda just a habit. You deserve your privacy without having to worry about whether or not I’m gonna barge in unannounced.” He dismisses your apology with a wave of his hand. “I’ll just put these up for you and then I’ll be on my way.”

”Can I help?” You waddle over to him, fingers laced behind your back. “I’d feel bad watching you put my groceries away for me after going out and getting them.”

Yunho gestures for you to occupy the space beside him with a small smile that takes solace at the corner of his mouth. The two of you do everything in complete silence, still not entirely used to each other’s presence because of the lack of crossing paths. As you’re finishing up, you start grabbing the items you need for your cereal. He raises an eyebrow at you.

”You don’t want something a little more filling?” He suddenly questions, jutting his chin at your bowl.

”I would love that if I knew how to cook,” you laugh. “Ironic isn’t it? The granddaughter of two farmers can’t cook to save their life.”

Yunho shakes his head with a chuckle, ruffling his hair. “Well, I don’t have to feed the horses for another hour if you’d like for me to whip up something better than a bowl of cereal.” 

“Really?” Your eyebrows furrow. Despite growing up with the mindset that you were above the farm life your grandparents tried to impose on you, you hated feeling like you were coming across as entitled. You didn’t want Yunho to think you were lazy or that you were too good. “You don’t have to do that. I can survive on instant ramen and cereal, I swear.”

”Y/N,” he says your name with a certain authority to it, and you’ve never loved the sound of your name coming out of someone else’s mouth so much before. “I want to. I’m not the world’s greatest chef or anything, but I have a couple tricks up my sleeve.”

”Okay, then,” you nod, taking a seat at the island. You watch in awe as he dances around the kitchen and prepares something for you. It’s weird, not in the sense that you feel awkward around this complete stranger, but because you feel the opposite. You feel comfortable around him, like you’ve known him for a while. It’s almost like Yunho has been a casual part of your life for much longer than a week. He’s easy to get along with, easy to mold into what you’re used to.

And that’s weird because you have a boyfriend. A boyfriend who cooks dinner for you most nights, but somehow has never made you feel this taken care of. It throws you off. That should definitely not be the case. How is this man doing this in one week and your boyfriend couldn’t in two years? 

The guilt settles in the pit of your stomach quickly. Sure, your boyfriend might’ve had a habit of forgetting important dates and didn’t give you half as much attention as he should’ve, but did that warrant the emotions brewing in your chest? Could that excuse this notion that maybe it was time to finally call it quits?

You zone out as Yunho finishes cooking your breakfast, too inside of your head to even fawn over the doting and slight coddling he was doing. Maybe you need to have a long conversation with Seojun about your relationship and where you want it to go. Perhaps it was a nice idea to invite him out to visit the farm, it could do you both some good. 

“Ta-da!” Yunho holds out a plate to you, the sparkle in his eyes effectively pushing out any thoughts of your boyfriend and the shame that was picking at you. You can’t help but reciprocate his expression when you see how delicious the food looks.

He’d made you omurice, the ketchup on top in cute squiggly lines to form whiskers and a little dog face. You accept the plate gratifyingly, your fingers brushing as you do so. He smiles shyly, eyeing you carefully while you take the first bite. You don’t remember the last time you had a home cooked breakfast, accustomed to the occasional muffin at the coffee shop near your house.

”’Not the world’s greatest chef’ my ass,” you grumble, pouting at his humbleness and his inability to be bad at anything. “I might just ask you to have breakfast with me every morning if you can chef it up this well.”

That melodic laugh of his rings in your ears, his elbows resting on the island and his chin in his palms. “I’m sure Yeoreum would appreciate a companion who isn’t me.”

“How long have you had her?” You ask, shoveling more omurice into your mouth. If you weren’t so hungry and so appeased by how delicious it was, you’d feel bad for ruining his hard work. The ketchup no longer looked like a dog, but rather a splatter of red all over your plate. 

“Almost four years now. I had her for a year before I met your grandparents. She adores them, so it’s no surprise that she likes you too.” He has this fond gaze in his eyes as he talks about his beloved Border Collie and it makes your heart ache. 

The fact that he has such a good relationship with your grandparents seals the deal for you. Well, it would seal the deal if you were single. Yunho is like the ideal man that every parent would want their daughter to bring home. He knows how to cook, knows how to clean. He’s adept around the house, skilled in yard work and other random jobs like fixing leaky pipes and installing new appliances. He’s gentle, but doesn’t mind getting his hands dirty. 

Your parents would never meet him, though. After the summer was over, you’d be back in Seoul and he would still be here, a distant memory. You forcibly laugh away the thought, excusing it as your response to his words and continuing the conversation about his dog. 

Perhaps this stay would be harder to get through than you thought. 

As the weeks pass you by, you find yourself becoming more and more infatuated with Jeong Yunho.

Cooking breakfast for you in the morning has become a regular thing. Monitoring him at the stove with sleepy eyes and a mug of fresh coffee in your hands has ingrained itself into your routine. Yeoreum called the spot beneath your stool her own now, laying there as her owner made your food. You think the transition from seeing him as just this comforting presence, this kind individual, to wanting something more was almost too smooth.

Especially right now as you sit on the back porch sipping on some lemonade, admiring the cowboy as he transfers bales of hay from the bed of his pickup truck to the pigpen and the cattle pen. He pauses in between trips, stripping off his flannel and tying it around his waist. He lifts the hem of the white tank top he’s wearing and uses it to wipe sweat from his forehead, revealing the toned abdomen he had been hiding from you up until now. 

You feel like you’re going insane, trying to pretend like you’re reading your book as you not so subtly gawk at his muscles straining with each bale he lifts. It’s crazy really, the effect he has on you doing his fucking job. You’ve made it a habit to sit out here and stare at him under the guise of various other things. Aside from being borderline obsessive, it’s horrible because you’re still very much in a relationship.

Most people would feel a hell of a lot worse than you do, like their entire world was crumbling between their fingertips just for finding someone else attractive. But for some reason, as time has continued to roll on, that guilt— that self-preservation— has faded. You’re dipping into another emotion that you’re too scared to explore. 

Yunho takes a break from his labor to guzzle down a bottle of water, his chest heaving up and down from exertion. Had you been paying attention to anything other than the view of the handsome man, you would’ve noticed the glass sliding out of your grasp, the condensation becoming far too dense to keep a solid grip on the cup. In the midst of drooling over him, your lemonade falls to the ground with a loud clanging noise.

Your reflexes are only swift enough to save your book, but the drink spills everywhere else and you wince at how embarrassing the situation is. You hurry inside to grab a towel before he can see the mortification enveloping your features. He seemed like the observant type, like one scan of your face could tell him everything he needs to know without a single word exchanged. Your fingers curl around the edge of the counter, blowing a raspberry while you attempt to regulate your blood pressure.

Through the window above the kitchen sink, you make out a confused Yunho, brows furrowed as he looks in the direction of the house. He worried over you entirely too much, particularly when you take into account the fact that all you did was think about him in manners not necessarily safe for work. Maybe you were just delirious. That was the only logical explanation for why you’re spiraling.

The high temperatures of the summer coupled with your surroundings are contributing to your change in behavior. Yes. That made sense. You weren’t crazy.

With a bit more reprieve, you’re able to grab a tea towel and head back outside to clean up your mess. (Not unaccompanied by a couple glances in Yunho’s direction, but that’s fine. Perfectly healthy even. It’s normal to check up on a friend. At least, that’s what you tell yourself, but who’s holding you accountable?)

“You know you’ve been making me breakfast every morning without asking for anything in return,” you speak up one morning, chin resting on the island. “Is there anything I can do to repay you?” 

Yunho purses his lips as he hands you your plate. “Nah, I like cooking for you.”

You try to ignore the way that has your heart fluttering in your chest, try to ignore the warmth blooming beneath your skin. Your eyes glance down at your food to avoid eye contact, bringing your chopsticks up to your lips. “Okay, well I wanna do something for you.”

Despite mumbling the words, he hears you anyway and smiles to himself as he takes a sip from his mug. He rolls up the sleeves of his denim button up, reaching down to scratch behind Yeoreum’s ear, the area that you’ve learned is her favorite. She pants joyfully, jumping on his leg excitedly. He looks between the two of you.

”Missy here needs a bath,” he says, cooing at her. “I was gonna give her one later, after I cleaned out the stables, but if you don’t mind doing it.”

”I’d do just about anything for that precious girl,” you nod enthusiastically. “Consider it done.”

This is how you end up out back, dog shampoo in one hand and the water hose in the other. 

Yeoreum’s signature bandana and collar lay on one of the rocking chairs on the porch, the dog looking so different without her accessories as you prepare to bathe her. You wet her fur generously, squeezing enough shampoo into your palm to lather it on. Compared to your childhood pets, she’s pretty well behaved.

She’s probably one of the only dogs who’s ever actually enjoyed taking a bath, sitting still for you while you scrub and rinse and repeat. You take your time with cleaning her, wanting to make sure you do your best as a thank you for every plate Yunho has ever made you. Usually, this isn’t something you would jump at the opportunity to do. Somehow, being back at the farm this past month or so has done everything your parents tried to do when you were younger.

It could’ve had to do with the desensitization of being here every summer for so long that it just never stuck when you were grade school age. But now, fully grown and experiencing this all over again on your own, with new faces at your side, it’s like you’re being exposed to something different. You can see why your mom and dad didn’t want the city life to become a dependency. 

You preferred the view of cabs and cafés over cows and chickens in the past, but now you found a sense of familiarity in them. You’d always want to go home as soon as you got here. Unlike other kids, you wanted your summer to be over as quickly as possible. You couldn’t imagine going home after this, though. This unveiled attachment to the farm you detested when you were younger could only be accredited to one person, and it was a little frightening. 

He constantly brought out parts of you that you didn’t know existed. This enigma, the one that emphasized how big of a role he’s fulfilling in the short period of time you’ve been here, drills itself into your brain every day. You knew you had to acknowledge it sooner or later, but it was just less of a hassle to act like it wasn’t screaming at you. Your fear of change was a more pertinent issue to ignore, so you let it consume all else. 

While getting lost in your thoughts, Yeoreum starts shaking and startles you, causing your hold on the hose to loosen, water spraying everywhere. The diversion has you losing your footing and slipping in the mud. You shriek, though it does nothing to block the stream that drenches you, your clothes getting wet. The universe decides it’s not on your side, because you happened to wear a white shirt. Why you chose to do that when you knew you were bathing a dog, you have no clue, but it was a little too late for regrets.

Yeoreum jumps out of the basin you had her in and runs to the farmhouse just as Yunho’s walking out, fresh from the shower. You forgot that he was cleaning the stables at the same time you were giving the Border Collie her bath, but now you’re starting to wish you waited until afterward just in case you needed the assistance. And well, you definitely needed the assistance. 

Plucking the tail end of the mishap, Yunho’s initial reaction is to laugh at your misfortune, but the closer he gets to the scene, the laughter dies out in his throat. Your top is sheer enough that he can map out the outline of your black bra. It leaves very little to the imagination and he thinks he might fall to his knees right here.

Since your grandparents told him that you’d be house sitting while they were away and proudly showcased a photo of you, he’s been enthralled by you. You had the face of an angel, or maybe a really enticing demon, he hasn’t cogitated it much yet. 

He swallows thickly, hoping to keep his composure as he makes his way to you. His hand is a little shaky when it reaches to take the hose from you, squeezing his eyes closed and switching off the water. He stays there for a few seconds to mentally prep himself for an up-close-and-personal look at you, even going as far as holding his breath. 

“Uh— you— um— you should go inside and dry off before you catch a cold,” Yunho keeps his eyes cast downward. He’s grateful that you don’t note how red the tips of his ears are, or how he thinks the sky is suddenly much more interesting than your face.

Your head cocks to the side in confusion. “What do you mean ‘before I catch a cold’? It’s, like, a million degrees out.” 

“The temperature drops at night and the sun’s setting soon. I’ll handle it from here. Yeoreum ran off, so I gotta chase after her anyway and I don’t think you want her to soak you more than she already has.” He’s insistent on shooing you away and getting you inside of the house. You huff.

”Okay… If you say so…” 

Reluctantly, you spin around and traverse back. The draft of the air conditioning has you shivering, rubbing up and down your arms as you enter the bathroom to inspect the damage. Your eyes almost bulge out of their sockets when you finally see yourself. No wonder Yunho was so adamant on staving you off like you were the plague. 

In your defense, you didn’t think the hose won the battle by that much. You assumed you’d just gotten everything above your shoulders wet, but no. You were practically doused head to toe. And the clear display of your brassiere under your clothes was the last thing on your mind.

He was stronger than you. Actually, he was a more respectful person than you. You would’ve gawked at him shamelessly if the roles were reversed. But at least you’re self aware! Right? The first step in recognizing that you have a problem, is admitting that you have a problem. That’s what you think they say in those addiction commercials, but you could be wrong. 

Wow. Now you were comparing him to drugs. Though, you suppose there isn’t that huge of a difference. Both had equal success rates in terms of getting people high and then making it hard to wane off their effects. 

You really had to quit it with the metaphor usage. 

It’s around midnight that night when the lightbulb in the bathroom goes out, halting you from finishing your bedtime routine. 

You’re exhausted to say the least, face damp from washing it and one of those fuzzy hairbands with the animal ears perched on your head. You were ready to crash out, but there were still a couple things you needed to do before that. It was proving to be a little difficult in the pitch black bathroom. The window above the shower was too narrow to provide any sufficient moonlight.

With a low grumble, you shuffle into your slippers and make the short trek from your grandparents’ house to Yunho in the farmhouse. You hug yourself when a strong breeze blows past, your flimsy t-shirt and sleep shorts doing hardly anything to block the cool summer night’s air. 

A piece of you feels a little bad for bothering him so late, but you have no idea how to change a lightbulb. You don’t even know where the lightbulbs are. Besides, you think you’d electrocute yourself if you made an attempt to do it on your own. 

You huff out a sigh and bring your knuckles up to knock at his door, waiting patiently for a response. He’s not asleep, you know this because he’s mentioned that his internal clock doesn’t turn off until two in the morning. Circadian rhythms were an odd concept, so to each their own. 

“Yunho! It’s Y/N! Open up!”

When a few minutes have passed, you try the knob. Maybe it was a bit… too presumptuous of you to enter his home without explicit permission. Yes, you’d known each other for the better part of a month and a half, and yes, you’d gotten very close in that timeframe, but did that constitute your actions?

Whether or not the answer to that question was a yes or a no, you really wish you would’ve just waited outside. As you venture further in search of the cowboy, you stumble upon something you shouldn’t have. 

Standing in the hallway on the other side of his bedroom, the door ajar at least an inch, you catch a glimpse of him on his bed. That white tank top you’re so used to seeing him in is between his teeth, eyebrows knit together in pure pleasure as he fists his cock with a purpose. His nostrils are flared and whiny moans escape from behind the fabric. 

His head falls back every now and then, eyes fluttering shut when he runs his thumb over the slit. He’s so focused that he doesn’t notice you, too entranced with chasing his high. Your lips part as you watch him fuck up into his hand, his shirt slipping from his mouth when he groans out a curse. 

Just as quickly as you become distracted by the sight of Yunho jerking off, you become aware of what you’re doing. You flee the scene before you get yourself caught, exiting the farmhouse as quietly as you can. The lightbulb can wait until morning, it wasn’t that important, honestly. You’re in a daze the entire walk back to your grandparents house, goosebumps littering your arms and the image of him in such an obscene state burned into your brain. 

You fall backwards onto your bed, staring at the ceiling in hopes of willing away the path your mind is beginning to wander towards. All you can think about is the sight of him so desperate for release, large hand wrapped around his dick, abdomen contracting with need. You know you weren’t supposed to see, weren’t supposed to bear witness to something so personal. 

It’s difficult to push out the nasty, inappropriate thoughts clouding your head. His expressions contorted into absolute bliss. His slender fingers could probably do so much more than your own, could probably reach places you’d never even dreamed of. And fuck, his dick, prettier and bigger than any other you’ve ever seen. 

Your chest blushes with heat, an embarrassment washing over you when you realize you’re turned on. You should feel terrible for intruding on Yunho’s privacy like that, especially without him knowing, but all you can do is want him more than you already do. That craving for something deeper, carnal, fans the flame engulfing you, dragging you further into the sick and twisted hell you’ve created for yourself. 

Yunho has been nothing but welcoming, kind and gentle with you, someone he didn’t even know the name of until last month. Someone who’s done everything in their power to repress this lifestyle for so long. And for some reason, it just comes so easily with him. You don’t feel forced to enjoy living on the farm. He makes you laugh and puts a smile on your face effortlessly. He has you wondering if life can actually be this simple. 

But when all is said and done, there will be somebody else waiting for you back home. Somebody who doesn’t know how to whip up omurice with freshly laid eggs. Somebody who isn’t even a dog person, who thinks pets are nuisances. Somebody who doesn’t live in the farmhouse behind your grandparents’. It’s a bitter pill to swallow.

If you touch yourself with tears streaming down your cheeks to the thought of the man who has eyes that resemble the night sky, well that’s between you and whatever higher being exists out there. 

You sit across from Yunho with bated breath, afraid that if you opened your mouth he would know your dirty secret. You avoid his eyes for the same reason, like one good look at you would reveal what you were trying to hide. 

Yunho himself was doing his best to pretend like he hadn’t masturbated to the thought of you last night. He liked to think he was good at keeping his feelings under wraps. It wasn’t like he didn’t know you were in a relationship, he’s heard you on the phone before. He stays silent as he fries rice in a pan and has some bread in the toaster. The only sounds in the kitchen are sizzling and the pants coming from Yeoreum under your stool. 

In the time that you’ve been here, never once has it been awkward between you like this. The conversation usually doesn’t stop flowing, rolling on and on and filtering into things that don’t pertain to the original subject. He rarely has his back to you for too long, turning over his shoulder to shoot you a grin every here and now. 

Both of you go to speak at the same time as a means of salvaging the morning from eternal strain. You stare at each other for a few seconds before bursting into laughter. Truly, you were two birds of a feather, or however that saying goes.

”Sorry, I don’t know why I’m being so quiet today,” Yunho says, though he knows it’s a lie. “I guess I had a long night.”

”Oh, that reminds me,” his mention of the previous night has you recalling the reason you went out to the farmhouse in the first place. “The light in my bathroom went out, do you think you can fix it for me?” 

“Yeah, for sure,” he begins preparing your plate. “Actually, I have this joke about lightbulbs. You wanna hear it?”

Your lips curl into a smile, already attempting to hold back your laughter. With a raised eyebrow, you respond, “What is it?”

”What did the lightbulb say to the light switch?” He asks nonchalantly, taking a bite from his own piece of toast. You’re failing miserably at acting like you don’t think the joke is funny, although he hasn’t even told you the punchline yet.

”I dunno, Yunho, what did the lightbulb say to the light switch?” 

“‘You turn me on.’” 

There’s a pregnant pause as the joke resonates and you can’t stop yourself from cackling at how stupid it is. He joins in, but mostly because your laughter is contagious. His chest swells with pride at his successful landing, feeling like he’s on top of the world just for bringing a smile to your face. God, he was down tremendously bad. 

Your spoon clatters onto the counter as you lean over, a hand clapped over your mouth as your boisterous laughing simmers into a giggle. Yunho leans into you slightly, matching your energy as he munches on his toast. This is what has you conflicted, so at war with yourself. The proximity should have you pulling away, but something about him always reels you in, despite the consequences that await.

And unfortunately, those consequences come to a head today.

“Are you fucking serious, Y/N?” 

You and Yunho jump back, whipping towards the source of the voice. Seojun stands there, his bags at his feet and his face crestfallen, disbelief written all over it. He shakes his head and turns to leave, you stumbling off of the barstool to follow behind him. The guilt you’ve only ever felt momentarily settles deep in your chest and deep in your stomach, though you technically haven’t done anything wrong.

Your abruptness startles Yeoreum and she’s up in a heartbeat, tailing behind you curiously. Yunho has to rush to stop her, but a part of himself wants to do the same. No matter how much he likes you, he’s never wanted to be the cause of your relationship falling apart. He wanted you organically, not like this.

”Seojun! Wait!” You call after him, holding up a hand to block out the harsh sunlight, tripping over your slippers. He scoffs. 

“What am I waiting for? You to spew some bullshit about how nothing’s going on between the two of you? I’m not fucking stupid, Y/N. I’m not blind.” He pops open his trunk and throws his bags in haphazardly.

”You’re being unreasonable,” you exclaim, rounding the car so you’re directly in front of him. “There is nothing going on. We’ve just gotten to know each other since we live in the same vicinity. Did you want me to stay here for three months and hole myself away with no other human contact?”

“He was just supposed to be the guy who lived in the farmhouse. He wasn’t supposed to bother you. That’s what you told me, remember?” Seojun is losing his patience, something that has always been the root of the problem when you’ve gotten into past arguments. “How do you expect me to react when I come to surprise you and see you being so close to another man?”

“I was laughing at a joke he told me. You’re making this a bigger deal than it is and blowing everything completely out of proportion. I’m sorry that it never came up that we became friends, but I didn’t do anything wrong. I’ve never once cheated on you in the three years we’ve been together and for you to accuse me of that is so fucking low of you.” You’re not going to cry, not going to give him the satisfaction of knowing he’s won. He thrives off of seeing your vulnerability and you won’t let him have it. 

“I saw the way he was looking at you,” he seethes, balling his hands into fists at his sides. “I know that look because that’s how I used to look at you.”

A laugh devoid of any humor leaves you and he blinks. “That’s how you ‘used to’ look at me? When did you stop? And why am I just finding this out?”

”That’s not— that isn’t what I meant, Y/N—“

”No, Seojun. You did,” you glance away from him, nipping at the inside of your cheek. “We’re grasping for straws. We aren’t going anywhere anymore and we haven’t for a while now. That’s why we're standing here arguing over this. I just want to know why you didn’t just tell me.”

”I’m too complacent,” he sighs, breathing through his nose. “I was too comfortable with you and I didn’t know how to let you go or walk away. But you’re right, there isn’t anything for us to save, and it seems like we’re both ready to move on.”

“What does that mean?” 

“I saw how you were looking at him, too. You might not have acted on it, but you have feelings for him. I’m not gonna stay and hold you back.” Seojun unlocks his car, opening the door. “And for what it’s worth, you won’t be wasting your time.”

You don’t respond, instead humming and letting him drive off. Once his car is far enough out of your view, you go back into the house. There’s an indescribable emotion that hostages you, binding your wrists and tying you down metaphorically. You can’t seem to shake it. 

Yunho is still in the kitchen, sitting on the floor with Yeoreum to keep her calm. He gazes up at you expectantly and you feel the tears you were suppressing from Seojun bubbling up. If you weren’t going to cry in front of your (now ex) boyfriend, you definitely weren’t going to cry in front of him. 

With a trembling exhale, you force yourself to say, “I need to be alone.”

He understands empathetically, clipping on Yeoreum’s leash and leaving the house in the same breath. That in itself has you crying like a baby the moment you’re all by yourself. You hold your face in your hands, body shuddering with each sob you release. 

I saw the way he was looking at you. 

I saw how you were looking at him, too. 

You had a lot to think about, and everything always seemed to circle back to Jeong Yunho. 

A couple days escape you before you register you haven’t seen much of Yunho. After your breakup with Seojun, you really did need a bit of room to process it all, but you hadn’t realized just how much you depended on the cowboy’s presence until you were missing it. 

You hadn’t meant to push him away, if that’s how he saw it. A night of bawling your eyes out with a pint of ice cream and The Vow was enough to cure you. However, it appears that he thought you needed more, going as far as putting a pin in your daily breakfast ritual. You aren’t sure how to extend an olive branch when you weren’t even trying to cause a rift between you in the first place. 

Being with someone for three years may not seem like a lot, but that fraction of your life is stuck with you, like a thumbtack that refuses to come out of the wall. You’d had boyfriends before Seojun, but they weren’t nearly as serious. There weren't formal introductions between parents, no late night conversations that bleed into early mornings, no sleepovers and quick kisses before work. 

Of course, after a certain point, those had just become habitual. You weren’t doing them because they evoked a sense of love or care anymore, but rather because you were familiar with them. It was safer to continue the pattern of waking up and falling asleep to Seojun on the other side of the bed, the intrusion of sunlight and the cacophony of traffic outside your window, even if you didn’t really want to. 

And then you came here. 

Somehow, returning to your grandparents’ farm was exactly what you needed to break through that cycle. As much as you would love to attest it to your location and discovering the appreciation your family wanted you to feel for it, you know the real reason. It’s all thanks to a certain cowboy.

Yunho’s feelings for you run far deeper than he could’ve imagined. He doesn’t know the extent of what happened with you and Seojun, but he thinks putting distance between you is better in the long run anyway. On the off chance you’re still together, he wants to preserve his heart. He’s handed it to someone else too easily in the past and he doesn’t want to make that mistake with you if you don’t feel the same. 

But even on the off chance that you’ve broken up, he still wants to stop himself from falling further and harder than he already has. Without ill will, he doubts that you would give up the life you have in the city for this, for him. He’ll be perpetually chained to being a faint imprint on your memory of the summer. You’ll think back to the months you spent here and he’ll have played only a minor role. 

It was wishful thinking, too hopeful of him to presume this would lead to a happy ending. You were from different worlds, led different lives. It was time for him to be realistic. And that meant implementing the space that was supposed to exist between you from the get go. 

Though, you make it difficult when he bumps into you on the way back from the mailbox. Déjà vu, anyone?

Yeoreum is excited to see you, jumping onto her haunches to lick your face when you kneel to her level. You giggle, squeezing one eye shut as you balance yourself and hold her still so her weight doesn’t clamber you both onto the ground. Your fingers pet to top of her head softly as you coo, “Who’s a good girl?”

Yunho physically winces when his chest tightens at the sight of his two favorite girls. The word ‘distance’ bounces around his head like a pinball, reminding him what he’s supposed to be doing. He just can’t bring himself to walk away. Especially when you look at him with those pretty eyes of yours. 

“Hey…” You start, steeling your tone to ensure it’s even. “I’m sorry if it seemed like I was avoiding you or something. I needed some time to myself to figure things out. It wasn’t my intention to shut you out and put you on the back burner.”

”No, it’s okay. I had to figure stuff out on my own, too,” he uses his bandana to dab at the sweat perspiring on his forehead. “Did you sort through whatever you needed to?”

“I did,” you nod, standing upright. “Seojun and I broke up, so I had to sit with my feelings for a bit. We’ve been together for so long, I think I needed to remember what it was like to be without him, and then I realized that’s basically what I’ve been doing since I came here.”

”Oh.” Yunho’s lips form an ‘O’ shape, hands dragging down the sides of his pants. “I’m sorry— um— about your breakup.”

”Don’t be,” you smile, dismissing his sympathy. “It was a long time coming, honestly. We weren’t really in the relationship wholeheartedly anymore. There wasn’t a point in stringing it along, you know? But that’s enough about me, did you figure your own things out?”

”I thought I did,” he says, which is true considering he’d been mulling over what to do with his emotions subsequent to your argument with your ex. “And then I kinda steered off course. It’s alright, though, I think I like the new conclusion I’ve come to a lot better.”

You might be on the same page now, but there was an entire discussion that had to happen to solidify that. Following a very emotionally charged past couple days, you could do without that today. You’re both just glad that the air is cleared and you can resume building the bond that began forming the moment you stepped foot onto the farm, no restrictions whatsoever.

“Have you ever ridden a horse?” 

You glance up from your book, this time genuinely reading it as Yunho fed the chickens and cleaned up their coop. He towers over you while he asks the question, his shadow thwarting off any direct sunlight. Your nose scrunches. 

“When I was in, like, middle school? It’s been a minute,” you answer, making sure to bookmark the page you stopped at. “Why?

”Would you let me teach you how to do it again?” He nips at his lower lip, like he’s nervous you’ll say no. The truth of the matter is you’d say yes even if he asked you to commit arson, which is kind of a problem.

“That sounds fun,” you shrug. “What time should I be ready?”

”Uh, now?” 

Okay, so sitting on a horse did not seem this scary when you were twelve.

It probably had to do with you being fearless and whatnot, but also because you did whatever your grandparents asked just to appease them. The faster you got off the damn horse, the faster you could go back inside and situate yourself in front of the TV. They thought they were making progress with you, but really you were outsmarting the outsmarters. 

Sweat glazes on the underside of your hands, disrupting the security of your grasp on the reins. Yunho thought it would be wiser if he stayed on foot, guiding you and the horse around the perimeter of the pen. You hoped you didn’t look as afraid as you were, but you’re certain the slight quiver of your bottom lip gives it away. 

“You’re doing fine, Y/N,” he reassures, maintaining a comforting amount of eye contact with you.

”Am I? Or does it just seem that way because you’re pulling the horse?” You quip, gripping the reins tighter when it steps over a rock and you sway a little. Your tone is laced with sarcasm, something Yunho hasn’t heard much of from you since you’ve met, but he thinks it’s cute that you resort to violence when you’re scared.

You notice the quirk of his mouth and how he’s trying not to laugh at your terror. It pisses you off solely because his humor isn’t unwarranted. You are being a bit over dramatic. He unties his bandana from around his neck and tosses it to you. “So you don’t callus your hands.”

He’s too thoughtful, too considerate for his own good, but that’s what roped you in. Even when you met for the first time, he had you figured out. The longer you stare at him, the more you realize just how perfect he is. If you were still in school and you were tasked with writing an essay about the summer you spent here, you’re sure the words would flow onto the pages flawlessly, without skipping a beat. Your prose would be so beautifully written, that even the most notable authors would be envious of your experience.

The only downside of this was the fact that time was beginning to seep through your fingers. There was mutuality in your feelings for each other, that was almost unequivocal. You were both just hesitant in taking that first leap. The uncertainty lied with that goodbye at the end of August, the one that’ll hurt a lot more than it was supposed to. But you know that postponing your unceremonious declaration of feelings would just do more harm than anything else. 

One consistency you’ve singled out since coming back to the farm is this common theme of divine intervention, or fate, whatever you want to call it. Right when you’re on the brink of an epiphany, you’re always forcefully shoved into it, like a freight train crashing into its platform traveling at full speed. This moment is no different. 

Yeoreum barking at a squirrel on the other side of the pen scares the horse who’s back you were currently on. It bucks up and you release the reins in alarm. You fall quickly, but Yunho’s quicker, catching you in his arms like it’s been a childhood dream of his to be a superhero. He searches your face for any indication that you might be hurt, a hand coming up to cup your cheek. 

The eyes you’ve grown to adore examine your own with so much care that you find yourself melting in his hold. Your face instinctively leans into his palm, fingers still clutching the fabric of his shirt like he may drop you. 

It’s nearly second-nature to minimize the gap between you. 

You never understood what novelists meant when they described kissing scenes. And you think that’s because you’d never truly had a kiss like this before. It was as if they were all talking about this second, this blip in time. The sparks that shoot from where your lips meet to the tips of your fingers, the thump-thump-thump of your heartbeat in your ears, the sensation of never wanting to escape, never wanting to stop. 

Yunho’s hand snakes behind your head, tangling in your hair to deepen the connection. It’s hungry. It’s desperate. It’s too much. It’s not enough. Everything that had been stacking on top of each other was leading to this, the collision that rivaled the Big Bang. You whine into his lips, an invitation but also an inquiry. 

He parts from you just so he can catch his breath, his forehead resting on yours. “Can I take you inside?”

You nod fervently. “Yes. Please.”

He wastes no time hauling you to the farmhouse. His grip on your wrist is gentle as he pulls you into his bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed and trapping you between his legs. Your restraint wears thin, nimble fingers fumbling with the rest of the buttons on his denim shirt. You push it off of his shoulders, a bit shell shocked when you discover that he’s wearing a regular t-shirt as opposed to his usual tank top. 

“You would pull something like this today of all days,” you laugh breathily, untucking the shirt from his pants. He reciprocates the sentiment, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck while you undress him. 

“Is it evil of me to say I was sorta hoping this would happen?” He speaks into your exposed collarbone, nipping, sucking, biting the skin. Your appreciative sigh goads him, his tongue gliding across the abused surface as a form of relief. 

“Mm-mm,” you hum, shaking your head, fast to yank off his shirt and run your nails down his abdomen. “I’ve been waiting for this for too long.”

“Yeah?” Yunho flips the two of you easily so you’re the one on the bed now. He pushes up the hem of your shirt, pecking your stomach to your clavicle as he shows more and more of your skin until the fabric is removed from your body. “Can’t believe I finally get to have you.”

You involuntarily moan, completely untouched and because of his words alone. Every part of you feels like it’s lit ablaze, burning with want and need and everything in between. This ran further than just what-ifs and late night fantasies. Your relationship with Yunho tiptoed on the edge of something you’ve never known before, and that makes this so much more special. 

He glances up at you when his fingers reach for the button of your shorts, a silent ask for permission. You give him the green light and hold yourself up on your elbows, watching with your breathing trapped in your throat as he rids of your panties along with them. His hands push your knees to your chest, kissing your inner thighs and right around the place you need him most, but never there. 

“Yunho…” You warn, but it comes across as a broken whimper rather than an establishment of authority. He laughs and then his lips are pressing to your clit, a sweet kiss that has all rationality taking a vacation from your brain. Your head tips back and you fist at the sheets. 

He drags his tongue through your folds, swirling it around the sensitive bundle of nerves each time it makes its return. It’s almost criminal how good it feels to have his mouth on your cunt, eyes already heavy lidded with pleasure. He sucks on your clit at the same time he decides to insert a finger into your entrance, curling it experimentally just because he can. Like you predicted, it reaches that spongy spot at the crook of your pussy, brushing it once he’s sure he’s found it. 

While you walked in on him fucking his fist, the only thing on his mind was you. He was so absorbed in the mental image of what you would look like beneath him, wiggling, writhing, squirming with indulgence. His social awareness was at a zero. This replayed over and over until he came, his thoughts so vivid he could’ve swore it was real.

But this, the actual thing, was so much better; his forearm pinning your hips down, his middle finger curling and uncurling inside of you, his mouth working overtime to inch you towards the edge of that steep cliff. He moans when your eyebrows practically coalesce, bottom lip trapped between your teeth. You look so gorgeous like this, so disoriented all because of the bliss he was providing. The vibrations of the sound have you arching your back, uncontrollable whines running from your mouth.

“Feel good?” Yunho asks, disconnecting his mouth and replacing it with his other hand, ring and middle digits swiping across your clit with practiced pressure. 

“Mhm,” you nod frantically, eyes on the brink of rolling to the back of your head. “Feels so good, Yun… Just like that, ‘m almost there.”

That’s all he needs to hear, switching his hand and mouth once again, focusing on alternating harsh and gentle sucks of your clit, adding a second finger to pump in and out of your hole. The doubled change in stimulation knocks the wind out of you, the precipice of your orgasm so close you can taste it. You’d never been brought to the summit this early in the past, and you think Yunho deserves some sort of reward for being the first to do so.

You’d worry about that later though, because you’re blindsided by it before you can even conjure your next thought. You cum with a cry, tears springing to your eyes from the immense amount of ecstasy coursing through your veins, swimming in your bloodstream. Yunho coos at you, not stopping until you’ve relaxed in his hold. “That’s it, baby, you’re doing so well.”

The praise makes your head feel airy, like empty space unoccupied by anything. If you paid attention in chemistry, then you’d know that’s highly impossible, but you didn’t. The only chemistry you even remotely care about is the one between you and Yunho, the tension that has piled higher and higher for days on end until its crescendo now. 

You sit up to kiss him roughly, savoring the taste of yourself on his lips. He smiles into it, a hand raising to caress the underside of your jaw. He climbs onto the bed, scooting you up so you’re positioned by the pillows. It doesn’t take much effort for your bodies to swap, his back to the headboard. You clumsily seat yourself on his lap, a knee on either side of him and sighing wistfully when his mouth trails down your throat and sternum, slender fingers sneaking behind you to unclasp your bra.

He aids you in removing his pants, still simultaneously prioritizing kisses all over your bare chest. When you’re both fully naked, you take your time admiring his cock. It’s just as pretty as you remember, long and thick. Your hand wraps around it gingerly, stroking the length as you lean down to kiss him again. You don’t think you could ever get enough of his lips on your own. 

“I’m not exactly getting any action over here, so I don’t have any condoms,” he says into your kiss, voice no louder than a whisper. 

“That’s okay,” you run your fingers through his hair. “Wanna feel you anyways, all of you.”

”Fuck, Y/N, you can kill a man with those words.” He groans, nails digging into your hips. You giggle, but it’s interrupted by him sitting you fully, his dick slipping through your lower lips. A whine brushes his ear when the tip catches your clit, repeating the movement until you can’t stay still.

The closest you’ll ever get to Heaven on earth is Yunho’s cock pushing inside of you, filling you up so deliciously you think you could die like this. Your jaw slackens, hands coming up to support yourself on his shoulders. Even if this is a one time thing, something that never happens again during your stay at the farm, he wants you to remember this when you go back home. He wants you to recall this sliver in your timeline and never forget it, wants his name engraved in your memory like a branding iron.

Once he feels you’ve adjusted to him well enough, he pulls you off of him almost entirely, just to ram back in without mercy. He punches a voluminous moan from you, eyes watching where he disappears in you and reemerges. You’re tighter and so much warmer than he dreamed you’d be, but it’s perfect. You suck him in like a vacuum, as if his cock was made to be inside of you, as if you didn’t want him to part from you.

“You’re s-so deep, Yun,” you mewl, pulling him in for another headache-inducing kiss. “Don’t wanna stop.”

He exhales through his nostrils, mumbling out a curse when your walls squeeze around him. He wanted to last a while for you, wanted to hold out and prolong this moment until you were both on the crest of passing out. But you feel like a glove, your silk-adjacent cunt begging for more and more. 

“Think I might cum soon, princess,” he groans, tossing his head back and just about losing every ounce of his sanity when your lips start marking the column of his throat. 

His big hands move under your thighs, holding you in place so he can fuck up into you. The pace at which his cock drills in and out of your pussy has you seeing stars, eyes snapping shut and nothing but colorful spots decorating your vision. You were already abhorrently sensitive following your first orgasm, so it didn’t really take much to introduce the second. 

Your hips stutter and it washes over you like a tidal wave, your body shuddering and collapsing into his top half. He pulls out of you quickly, mouth stationed by your ear as he jerks himself off until he’s painting your backside. He moans, a lot like the sounds he was making the other night, and you feel the need to just kiss him again. 

Your lips lock sweetly, a stark contrast to your previous actions. Yunho curves a hand on your cheek, seperating from you the smallest distance so he can admire you. The smile that etches onto his expression makes you dizzier than anything else. However, the cutesiness can only span so long before the setting gives way. 

Yunho’s hand snakes in between you, his forefinger sliding up and down your slit teasingly. Your breath comes out shaky, your face finding purchase in the crook of his neck. He replaces the digit with his middle finger, parting your pussy lips in search of your clit. It doesn’t take him very long to find it, rubbing tight circles into the engorged skin. You moan into his shoulder, resting your forehead on it to see the way he works your cunt. 

“You’re so wet, baby. Have I not fucked you enough?” He whispers into your ear huskily. Yunho talking dirty to you is something you didn’t know you needed in your life. His finger slips downward, thrusting up into your hole with ease. He keeps massaging your clit with his palm, the stimulation making your head woozy.

“Mmmph— Yun, god. Feels too good.” You whine, gyrating your hips on his hand. 

“Is that right, babe?” He encourages, adding a second finger and increasing the speed of their thrusts, almost like you hadn’t been in this position already. “I can’t wait to feel this tight little pussy around my cock again. Gonna fuck you harder than the last.”

Your whimpers raise in volume, focusing on the way he curls his digits in you, applying pressure with the heel of his palm to the circles he’s rubbing into your clit. You can sense your third orgasm approaching, warmth flooding your cheeks at how embarrassingly fast he worked you back up. Your walls clench around his fingers, alerting him of how close you are. He pauses, worming his body down so his face is eye level with your cunt again.

Yunho does the whole teasing thing a second time, kissing and suckling the hot skin of your belly, knowingly denying you of your release. You grab a handful of his hair, tugging at the ends to spur him on. He groans, giving into you and licking a straight line up your slit. He inserts both fingers again, this time using his tongue to manipulate your swollen clit.

The heat of Yunho’s mouth makes your insides ache, the necessity to cum intensifying. You keen loudly, desperately, needily, the sight of the brunette between your legs so incredibly arousing. He sucks on your throbbing clit, his long fingers as deep as they can go, and you crumble. 

“Oh my god— oh my god— I’m cumming! I’m—” You cut yourself off, convulsing under him. He laps up as much of your juices as he can, coating his chin with your release. You moan as you pull him towards you to unify your lips, a mixture of your saliva and cum connect your mouths in strings. At this point, the sex is messier than anything you could’ve plucked from your wildest dreams. 

One hand trails down your body, using your nimble fingers to play with your sensitive clit when he starts fisting his cock in preparation to enter your pussy again. You use your free hand to scratch at his contracting abs. He hisses, propping himself up with one arm next to your head and his eyes trained on the way you finger yourself at the same time. You can feel his breath on your cheeks and being in this proximity to him fuels your yearning.

“Please, Yun… Need you back inside of me,” you whimper. Rubbing your clit with your own fingers isn’t satisfying enough, not with him here in front of you, not when you know how good he can make you feel.

“Fuck, baby, when you beg like that I don’t know if I can hold back.” He chuckles lowly. It rumbles from his chest, shooting to your core. 

“So don’t,” you rouse. “This is more than just a one time thing for me, Yunho.”

His eyes widen just a bit, your confession catching him off guard. That’s all he needs to line himself up with your hole, hooking his forearm under your knee as he slides in, stretching your cunt so perfectly with his perfect cock. “Shit— you’re so tight, princess… It’s almost like I didn’t just fuck you within an inch of your life.” He moans and spreads your legs wider. He bottoms out with a grunt, throwing his head back from the feeling of your velvety walls. A near deafening cry is ripped from your vocal cords. He nips at your neck, starting to piston his hips. 

His thrusts don’t slow but become calculated, speeding up and diving deep simultaneously. It only took a short amount of time to figure out what you liked and he used it to his advantage. Yunho hikes your knee to your chest, groping your tits with his free hand. He twists and tugs at your nipples just hard enough that it contributes to your pleasure rather than hurts you.

It’s as if he doesn’t feel buried inside of you sufficiently, because he decreases his pace to press and fold your other leg up, his hips ramming into your ass with each thrust now. The tip of his cock kisses at what feels like your cervix. That familiar coil begins to fasten again, keening with every drive into your cunt. The squelching noises would’ve made you cower in shame with anyone else, but with Yunho it turns you on further.

You moan, and he flattens his hand on the lower part of your stomach. Yunho groans, biting the skin where your shoulder meets your neck. Your fingers find your clit again, circling insatiably to get yourself off. 

“You gonna cum for me again?” He rasps, his hold on your legs almost painful. The backs of your thighs burn, but you endure it for the sake of the moment. You reach up and behind yourself, grabbing at the headboard in an attempt to match his force. 

“Oh my god, yes— yes yes yes yes,” you babble, the syllables blurring together like your mind. “Gonna cum so hard for you, Yunho. Keep going, please.”

His lips attach to yours, tongues tangling sloppily. The position you’re in is on the opposite end of the spectrum from how you were expecting this summer reunion to go. Had you not been made aware of Yunho living here at the last minute, you probably would’ve backed out of your commitment to staying. Deep down you’re a little too thankful that your grandmother mentioned him when it was too late to reconsider. 

“I think I’m in love with you, Y/N,” Yunho whispers into your mouth. 

You let go of the headboard, cupping his jaw and kissing him lovingly. “Me too.”

Your fingers speed up and so do his thrusts, perfectly timed with each other to shove you both towards your highs. You’re on the cusp of falling apart, arching into him to close the gap between your bodies. 

“Wanna cum inside you. Can I?” Yunho grunts. 

“Yes yes, please. Fill me up, Yun, want all of you.” 

He continues to abuse your cunt, pounding into you like his life depended on it. You sob, clamping your walls around him. He freezes, suddenly spilling into you. “Come on, baby, cum on my cock.” The warmth of his release and his words coax your orgasm, the fluttering of your cunt milking every single drop from him that it can. Even with his dick plugging you up, you can feel it dripping out of you and onto the sheets below. 

He rocks into you languidly until you’ve calmed down enough for him to pull out. His forehead is flush on your chest, rising and falling with it, both of you so spent from the intense physical activity you engaged in. You stare up at the ceiling with heavy eyelids, carding your fingers through his hair to soothe him. 

“You meant what you said right? About this not being a one time thing.” Yunho says hesitantly, like he’s afraid of permeating the atmosphere you created. 

“I don’t think I can go home at the end of the summer and forget the way I feel for you, Yunho.” You admit out loud. There had been a constant struggle in your head over whether or not to follow your heart, but as he looks at you with those sparkly eyes of his, you know your answer. And you feel a little stupid for ever considering the counter. 

“And what exactly are those feelings?” He pushes, folding his hands on your sternum and laying his cheek on top. You giggle, brushing his hair out of his view. As tempting as it was to divulge your theatrical journey in assessing your emotions, you’re too exhausted to stay awake. It would have to wait for another day. 

“You have the rest of the summer to find out, cowboy.”

© yunhoszn. do not steal, claim, or repost. 

[lipglossanon]

October 5th

Kink: Praise

Pairing: Sweet Stepdad!Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, stepcest, dirty talk, praise kink, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, mirror sex, semi-public sex, creampie

not proofread

“Baby, y’sure you don’t want one of your friends to help?”

You smile at Leon as you tug him into the Halloween store. 

“Promise, besides this way we can match!”

He huffs a laugh and lets you lock your arms together, guiding him over to the back with the racks of colorful costumes on display. You hold up random outfits to him or yourself, brows pinched together, while you debate on what exactly you want to wear this year. 

“What about this one?”

You turn and have to bite your bottom lip. Leon’s holding up a cowboy costume with a cowgirl one being offered out to you. 

“Yes,” you’re nodding as you grab onto the plastic encasing the cheap fabric. “Let’s go see if they have a changing room.”

“Alright,” he scans the area and then presses a broad palm against the center of your back to guide you deeper into the store. 

Stopping in front of the dressing rooms, he goes to take a seat on the benches set up near the door. 

“Uh uh,” you pull him into the room with you and quickly shut the door. “You gotta help me try it on.”

“Oh, I do, huh?” He grins and it makes butterflies dance in your chest. 

“Mmhmm,” you drop the costume down onto the little chair that’s always in a changing room. Your hands glide up his biceps to cling to his shoulders. 

“Need your help taking my clothes off, daddy,” you raise your head up to brush your lips across his. “Especially my panties.”

“Yeah?” He groans, hands grabbing onto your hips. “Those little panties sticking to your chubby cunt, sweetheart?”

Whining, you rock your hips forward, biting down on his bottom lip when you feel his bulge through his slacks. His hands make quick work of slipping your shirt off along with your bra, fingers tweaking your nipples roughly before moving down to help you step out of your jeans and panties. 

“Oh, she’s soaking wet, baby,” he murmurs, fingers skating across your slit to rub your pussy, smearing slick into your soft skin.  

“Let daddy eat this sexy pussy,” he drops to his knees before you can even say anything. “Fuck, you always look so good.”

Biting down on your knuckles, you keep your eyes on Leon as he buries his face between your thighs, picking one leg up to drape over his shoulder so he can lick into you easier. 

“Love how you taste,” he groans, nuzzling against your clit. “Always so soft and wet, god, could stay here all day.”

“Leon,” you mewl, body buzzing with his words as his tongue slides through your soaked folds to lap at your drippy hole. 

“Such a good girl,” his tongue slides into your fluttering walls. He grinds his nose across your clit and nuzzles against your pussy lips. 

The shuffling of feet and muted conversation floods the hallway outside of your room before you hear the person take the room next to yours (door shutting and jostling the wall connecting the two rooms). Leon pulls away with a sly grin and you press your knuckles into your mouth. 

Instead of going back to eating you out, he stands up, crowding into your space. 

“Turn around, put your hands on the mirror, sweetheart,” he rotates your body until you’re facing away from him. 

Following his instructions, you place your hands on the mirror adjacent to the wall shared with the next dressing room. He pulls your hips towards him, forcing you to bend over. Glancing at his reflection in the glass, you watch as he unzips his slacks and pulls out his thick cock, your heart pounding in your chest from nerves. 

The broad head of his dick glides through your slick folds, parting your pussy lips to rub against your swollen clit. Your eyes flutter as you bite your lip to stop from making any noise. 

Leon leans forward, mouth ghosting across your ear and drawing your attention to look at the mirror into his dark blue eyes. 

“Y’gonna let daddy stuff this hot, wet pussy?”

You nod, not trusting yourself to speak. He winks and it sends heat spiraling through you while he notches the head of his cock at your drooling hole. Leon eases himself inside of your clenching heat with measured rocks of his hips, making your toes curl, mouth panting so hard you fog up the glass. 

The loud trill of a phone jars you as the person next door answers the call. You can’t quite make out what’s being said but the cadence of their speaking filters through the thin wall, making you tense up until Leon hisses. He slowly pulls out only to thrust back in equally as slow. It makes your mouth salivate, the easy push and pull of his cock inside your fluttering walls has you leaking slick down your thighs to drip onto the dressing room floor. 

“So perfect, sweetheart,” he whispers against your ear. “Look at how good you’re taking me, li’l pussy’s just made for my cock.”

You keen, but stifle it into a muted whine, clenching down on his dick, “Daaad.”

“C’mon now,” he croons, “look at that pretty girl taking daddy’s dick. So good for me, baby. Such a good girl.”

Your hooded eyes struggle to stay open on the reflection of Leon pumping his cock into your soaked cunt. His words drive your arousal higher and higher, clit throbbing and swollen. 

“Touch me, daddy, please,” you gasp, “wanna cum.”

“Of course,” he moves one hand down to cup your hot pussy, fingers rubbing over your slippery bundle of nerves. “Daddy’s perfect girl deserves to feel good, doesn’t she?”

“Uh huh,” you moan softly. “Feels so good.”

The person occupying the neighboring room bumps the wall and makes you gasp. Leon doesn’t stop playing with your clit or driving his dick into your squelching pussy. Your dazed eyes watch his own flutter closed as he tips his head back, neck tendons taut as he keeps his slow and steady pace. 

Watching him bite his lip does you in, walls fluttering and milking his cock as your orgasm steals your breath. Thighs shaking from the pleasure whiting out your brain, your eyes fall shut, willing yourself to keep as quiet as possible. Leon swears under his breath and lets himself fuck into you a little faster. 

“Cum inside me,” you whimper. “Wanna feel full.”

“Fucking Christ,” he groans, “yeah? Fuck, g’nna cum, goddamn—“

He muffles his moan into your neck as he leans forward and buries his cock deep into your pulsing hole. Your cunt flutters around his thick length as he shoots rope after rope of hot cum until he’s completely spent. Pulling away with a low hiss, he helps you pull your panties back into place before his spend drips everywhere.

Turning you around, he kisses you, tongue pushing into your mouth to taste you. Groaning, he presses you against the wall and sloppily makes out with you until the wall jostles again from the neighboring door slamming open and shut. 

“Probably should just get these, huh?” He pulls back with a grin. 

“I’m totally fine with it. Cowboys are hot,” you smile back. “Let’s head home, I wanna round two where I can actually be loud.” 

[poeticpascal]

Home (Joel Miller x Barbie!Reader)

Masterlist | Request here!

Summary: When a deep sense of loneliness overcomes Cowgirl Barbie, she leaves Barbieland to find whatever poor kid it is that's making her feel that way. Of course, she could never have expected just how much light Sarah would bring to her life, and she certainly didn't expect the things her grumpy father would teach her about love.

Word count: 10.6k

Warnings: Barbie movie spoilers, angst, angry Joel (he's insecure and protective), descriptions of loneliness, lots of fluff!

A/n: this is literally my Magnum Opus. Reader is Cowgirl Barbie. I truly hope you love this as much as I do 💖

Barbieland has been very different since Stereotypical Barbie left. Good different.

The Kens have jobs now, proper jobs, not just ‘Beach’ or ‘Surf’. They’re not the most competent workers Barbieland has ever seen; they get too distracted trying on new overalls at the building site or throwing paper aeroplanes at each other in the offices. But they’re trying, and you have to admit, it’s pretty adorable seeing them so excited to head off to work each morning.

Barbieland has laughter now, true laughter, not perfect giggles but the kind that brings tears to your eyes and makes your belly hurt. It has crying, proper full-bodied sobs that rack through your chest, aching in a good way. And it has life. Fervent, overwhelming, painfully brilliant life.

It’s magnificent, even the really hard bits. Which there are a lot of.

Like losing someone you really, really love.

Stereotypical Barbie - Barbara, as she’s known now - had been your best friend. Your Dreamhouse was right next to hers, and every morning you’d float down to the streets together, where she’d hop into her little pink car and you’d mount your pony and ride into town. It was perfect, a sweet little life surrounded by pinkness and joy, and if you’re being completely honest with yourself, you miss it.

You bonded over how displaced you both felt. Neither of you really had a thing, a specific job to do. She was Stereotypical Barbie, and you’re Cowgirl Barbie. Destined to wear dusty denim and cowboy hats for all of eternity; not a doctor, not a physicist, not an astronaut and certainly not the president. Just a cowgirl.

And there aren’t even any cows.

That was what brought you and Stereotypical Barbie together; you both felt slightly unsure of the world, however perfect it may be, and you found friendship in that.

So when she left, that hurt. 

Because she found purpose.

Purpose in feeling, and knowing, and living.

Purpose in things you could only dream about. And what you hate the most is that she was right.

It feels good to hurt. It feels good to have that pain in your chest, that ache in your cheeks when you’re not quite done crying yet. That emptiness that fills the space where flowers had once bloomed.

It feels like shit to miss your friend, and it feels incredible to have loved someone so much that you miss them.

And that’s the beauty she brought to your life. To all the Barbies’ lives.

But it still goddamn hurts.

About as much as the strange thoughts of loneliness have hurt the past few weeks.

You’re never alone in Barbieland; there’s always someone there, a friend, a listening ear. A million other Barbies who genuinely care.

But the feeling is so strong, so heavy in your gut, that all the Barbies and Kens and Allens in the world can’t take it away.

Which only calls for one thing.

“Your friend had the same problem, you know,” Weird Barbie says, walking round you in circles like prey. You gulp; she’s significantly less ‘weird’ now, what with her fancy job at the Capital and the whole ‘awakened Barbies’ thing, but she certainly kept some habits that set you a little bit on edge.

“How do you mean?” You stutter, trying to keep up as she continues to stalk around you and make strange gestures.

“First came the depression-” she pulls down a presentation screen from god-knows where, one decorated with the typical Barbie anatomy and annotated with the same notes Weird Barbie is now recounting. She points to the head, ‘depression’ scribbled beside it, and stops in front of you.

“And then-” she moves again, rotating to the other side of the screen and pointing to the drawing’s legs. “-came the cellulite.”

She pauses, seemingly waiting for some big reaction, but you just stare. Sure, cellulite was feared back then, but almost every Barbie has it now, and it’s really no big deal. “...okay?” you posit, slightly more concerned as Weird Barbie’s face falls at your reply.

“Damn, I guess we really are doing things differently now.” Her surprise is dropped quickly, as she continues to explain what it means to be overcome with these awful feelings so quickly.

“In the end, sweetheart, there’s only one way to fix this.” She leans in uncomfortably close, making you gulp. “You gotta go to the real world.”

You had a feeling she’d say that. 

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

When you arrive in the real world, there’s really only one person you can go to. The one person you’ve missed more than anything.

She was your best friend, and yet standing here on the doorstep of an apartment that looks nothing like a Dreamhouse, you can’t help how nervous you feel.

She’d given all the Barbies her new address, in case any of them managed to sneak into the real world, so she mustn’t mind that you’re here. But she’ll be so different now, so human, and you’re still just a Barbie with a jaunty cowgirl outfit and a sunny disposition.

Your worries are immediately washed away when the door flings open, and before you can even see who it is, a pair of arms are tightly wrapped around your neck and you’re pulled in for a big, warm hug. But you know who it is, and you hug her back immediately, tears welling in your eyes as you finally hold your best friend again.

Barbara pulls back, holding your cheeks in her hands, almost like she didn’t think you were really there. “I can’t believe you’re here!” She grins, hugging you again with a giggle. “I missed you so much.”

“Oh, Barbara, I missed you too,” you cry, not wanting to let her go. 

“What are you doing here?” She asks, and you finally relax your arms, taking in how much she’s changed. She isn’t wearing anything pink, or sparkly, but a white blouse and nude pants that look very professional. Very human. Very different.

You don’t reply to her question, unsure of what the answer even is, and that alone makes her worried. So she takes you by the hand and leads you into her apartment, one painted white with sweet pictures on the walls of her with Sasha and Gloria, and some other women you don’t recognise. It makes you a little jealous.

She leads you to the kitchen, sitting you on a bar stool and pouring tea for you both. You go to drink it, holding the cup away from your mouth and tipping it, but she quickly jumps up shouting “no!” and pulling the cup down.

She laughs, making you laugh nervously too, and explains you need to hold the cup to your lips and sip. “Are you sure?” you ask, staring down at the liquid and tentatively trying to drink it, the warmth on your tongue foreign but sweet. 

“Yep! That’s how we drink here. I know it’s weird but once you get used to it, it’s so good.”

You smile, putting down the cup and looking back at your friend. “Things are pretty different here, huh?”

Barbara smiles, nodding her head and swinging her legs where they hang from the stool. “Yep! Isn’t it great?”

“Yeah, it is,” you reply, with a fraction of the excitement. You push a loose strand of hair behind your ear, knocking your hat slightly which you quickly correct into place, acutely aware of yourself in the presence of someone who’s changed so much. “Do… do you ever miss us? The Barbies?”

She grimaces, making you regret asking as soon as the words leave your lips. Her eyebrows sink into concern, and she sets her tea down beside yours, taking your hand and squeezing it tightly.

“Every single day. Of course I miss you - I even miss the Kens!” You both giggle, and you’re reminded of how things were before. 

You have to admit, you almost asked your Ken to come with you, but he was having so much fun in Barbieland now that you couldn’t bring yourself to take him away from it.

“I’m so sorry I made you feel that way.” Her eyes have welled up now, and guilt hits you like a truck.

“No, no, I’m sorry. You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m so happy for you, truly.” You smile, and you know she knows you mean it. “I just… I feel so lonely. It’s like a big hole in my chest, all the time. No matter what I do, no matter how many girl’s nights and big blowout parties and days on the beach, I just feel lonely. And it’s even worse without you here.”

Barbara holds your hand tighter, and something you said seems to have caught her attention. “You mean you felt like this even before I left? Before the Kendom?”

You nod, sheepish, and her eyes squint in thought. Then, as if a lightbulb has gone off in her head, she gives you her trademark big white smile and excitedly shouts, “I know what you need to do!”

She jumps off her chair, grabbing your hand and pulling you towards the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking LA. You stand there for a moment, taking in the view, the overwhelming sights and sounds of rushing traffic below you. It’s beautiful and terrifying at the same time.

“You need to find the little girl who’s playing with you,” Barbara whispers, watching your amazement. 

“Isn’t that what you did?” You ask, finally pulling your eyes away to face your friend. She nods, her smile just as bright and honest as ever, and it makes the idea of facing this big wide world seem a little less scary.

“I’ll come with you, we’ll go find her, and we’ll figure out what’s been making her feel so lonely.” 

“Will you really come with me?” 

You already know the answer; of course she will. She’s the kindest person you know. Of course, all the Barbies are the kindest people you know, but that’s a technicality you don’t feel like getting into right now.

“You know it,” she grins, and you can’t help but grin back as you think about what an adventure this is going to be.

“How will I know where to find her?” You ask, looking back through the window at the huge world on the other side of the glass. How could you possibly find your kid?

Barbie tugs you to face her, straightens your hat and looks directly into your eyes, making you focus. “You gotta be really calm, okay? Just close your eyes, clear your mind, and find her memories. And then try to figure out where she is. That’s how I found Sasha!’

You nod, not quite sure how this is going to work, if this is going to work. But you try anyway, squeezing your eyes shut and doing your best to shush all the noise and confusion in your head, desperately searching for anything that could help you find your kid. You get nothing, ready to give up after a few minutes of emptiness, when suddenly - there it is, the faintest hint of a memory.

“Dad, can we have a movie night tonight?” Sarah asks, watching as Joel paces the room, frantically searching for his other shoe.

“Yeah, sweetheart, course,” he replies. She smiles, heading over to the TV stand and already searching for a film to watch, giggling as her Dad begins to lift up the couch cushions. 

She looks down, seeing the shoe hiding just behind the stand, and rolls her eyes as she picks it up and throws it at him. “How’d you find it?” He mutters, scoffing as she just laughs at him, though a matching grin is etching its way onto his lips.

He slides on the other shoe, grabbing his wallet and keys and heading over to give Sarah a kiss on the head. “When will you be home?” She asks, and he offers a guilty smile that doesn’t make her particularly hopeful.

“Soon as I can, Sarah. Around 8? 9 at the latest.” She nods, forcing a smile and letting him go, and Joel’s out the door in a flash with a final shout of “Love you, honey!” and a slam of the door.

The memory changes, then.

It’s nighttime, and Sarah lies alone on the couch, a movie playing that she doesn’t seem to be really watching. Her eyes flicker up to the mantlepiece, where the clock reads 10:13, and she sighs. 

Then she stands, traipsing into the hallway and towards the front door, where the key hangs in the lock. She turns it, unlocking the door and leaving the key on the sidetable, then picking up a piece of mail that had been left there.

“51 Mulberry Road

Travis County

Austin, Texas

Dear Mr. Miller, we are writing to solicit your contracting services for our new development…”

Sarah groans, throwing the letter back on the table and muttering “more work, great.” She retreats upstairs, slamming the door behind her and climbing into bed…

You’re pulled out of the memory by Barbara’s voice, filled with excitement. “Can you see her? Do you know her name? Do you know where she is?”

“Sarah” you mumble, still dazed. “Sarah, her name’s Sarah.”

Barbara squeals, clapping her hands together before calming herself and urging you to continue. “And? Where is she?”

You concentrate, trying to remember what was written on the letter you saw. “Er… Texas. Yeah, she’s in Texas. Mulberry Road. Is that close?”

She pulls a face, a yeah… no kind of face, then grabs a big book from under her coffee table and flips it open. You watch in amazement as she scans the pages and pages of maps inside, until she shouts, “a-ha!”, pointing to a spot on a page titled ‘The United States of America’. “Here it is. We’ll need to fly there.”

A nervous excitement brews in your tummy, your eyes glued to the little spot on the map labelled Texas. The spot where Sarah lives, with her Dad. The place you’re destined to find.

“Oh, and don’t get freaked out… but men fly planes here.” Your head snaps up, confusion painting your face, and Barbara just nods at your reaction.

“Seriously?” You ask, wondering if she was just playing a prank. “Is… is that safe?”

She giggles, putting the book down and grabbing your hand. “Yep, there’s a lot to get used to here. You’ll see. Now come on, we need to pack our bags!”

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

And so here you are, on a flight to Texas, on your way to find Sarah and bring an end to her loneliness. 

Barbara tells you all about the real world. How different yet wonderful it is, how much there is to do and see and feel. She’s at university now, getting qualifications to be a psychologist and work with young girls who are struggling. It’s brilliant, but strange, you think - qualifications aren’t needed in Barbieland - anyone can just do anything. Well, the Barbies can. And the Kens really do try.

The journey is filled with new and exciting things, but it’s scattered with memories of Sarah and her dad that pop up in your mind at random. You see everything; their best moments, their worst, the times they’ve laughed and cried and screamed. 

You can see the first time she chose you. She was smaller, much smaller than she is in the more recent memories, and her Dad seemed friendlier, then.

“Alright, honey. Which one d’ya want?” Joel asks, smiling as Sarah’s eyes scan shelf after shelf of Barbies. 

“You should get this one,” he jokes, picking up a doll labelled ‘Builder Barbie’. “She’s just like your daddy!”

Sarah giggles, shaking her head and crossing her arms. “You’re not a builder, daddy! You’re a cont-ac-er.”

Joel’s heart warms, both at how much she loves his job and won’t accept a vague similarity, and her attempted pronunciation of the word ‘contractor’. 

“Well then, which one, babygirl?”

She spends a few more moments looking at each option, before her eyes widen, landing on one a little further away to the left. She stands up on her tippy-toes, grabbing the doll and admiring it, giddy.

“This one, Daddy! I want this one!” She shows him the doll, waving it in his face but not letting him take it, protective already. It’s a Cowgirl Barbie, one clothed in denim and brown leather, with cliche cowboy boots and a hat. 

“She’s just like you, Daddy.”

Joel pulls a face, looking back and forth between Sarah and the doll. “How in the hell is she like me?”

Sarah scowls, pointing to the cowboy hat and explaining, “she’s a cowgirl! And you’re a cowboy!” 

“I ain’t no cowboy” Joel retorts, shaking his head and leading Sarah over to the cashier’s desk. “When have you ever seen me in one of them hats, huh?”

Sarah giggles, itching to take the doll out of the box, and Joel knows she’ll do it the second he’s paid. “Maybe you can borrow hers, daddy, and be a proper cowboy.”

He rolls his eyes, though the smile hasn’t fallen from his face for even a second. He pays, watching with joy as Sarah scrambles to rip open the plastic, finally pulling out the doll and hugging it the whole way home while making up stories of ranches and horses and pistol duels - she was certainly her father’s daughter.

“Barbie? You there?” Barbara pulls you out of your thoughts, staring at you as you finally turn to look at her. 

“Sorry, I’m here. Just…”

“Keep getting memories, huh?” 

You nod, looking out the plane window and into the skies. She still seems concerned, but lets it go, returning to her magazine and letting you be with your thoughts. 

More memories swirl in your mind; you can see Sarah’s first days of middle school and high school, her most vulnerable moments of crying in her room and talking to you like you were the only one who’d listen, her relationship with her dad and how he’s become more and more distant over the years.

Sarah slams her bedroom door behind her, falling on the bed with a sigh. She sits back up, her eyes falling on the Cowgirl sat on the shelf across from her, growing dusty as she plays with it less and less.

She’s 14 now, too old for dolls really. And yet, that Barbie had been there with her through her toughest moments, and even now, it was comforting to have her there.

“Dad’s at work. Again.” She says, half to the doll, half to herself. “It sucks.”

She dives into her backpack, pulling out a small box and opening it up, the newly-polished watch inside glistening in the light from the window. 

She takes it out, delicately, and turns it around to see the engraved lettering on the back. 

‘No matter what, we have each other. I love you, Dad. From Sarah x’

She smiles, quickly placing the watch back in its box, not wanting to damage it before she could even give it to her Dad. “You think he’ll like it?” She asks the doll smiling at her from the shelf.

“I just… I just want him to know I love him. And that I know he doesn’t mean to be gone all the time.” 

She stands, picking the doll up from the shelf and brushing the dust away, carefully readjusting her little hat and smiling at the piece of her childhood. 

“I’ll give it to him tonight. If he ever comes home,” she sighs, lying down beside the Barbie and taking a nap, knowing she had a long wait ahead.

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

“Alright, here we are!” Barbara chimes, pulling up to the house you’d been looking for. 51 Mulberry Road. 

“Are you nervous?”

“Hell yeah I’m nervous,” you quip, the fear plainly stated in your wide eyes. What if she doesn’t like you? What if you can’t help her feel less lonely? What if this just doesn’t work?

“Look, I’ve been there,” she replies, knowing exactly how you feel. “You’ve gotta remember that you’re her Barbie. You’re her friend, and she’s yours. It’s all gonna work out. My only advice? Don’t expect her to thank you for making everything amazing for women. Trust me, it does not end well.”

You giggle, remembering the story of when she first met Sasha, and hope Sarah won’t be quite as mean. You feel a little better, and thank Barbara for her support, grateful to have your friend back.

“Alright, I’m gonna go and get a coffee. If you need anything, call me, okay?” She hands you the little flip phone she bought, having shown you how to make texts and calls on it to her iPhone. You nod, thanking her again and stepping out of the car, the nerves building up as you hear her drive away and you’re left alone in front of the house.

You take a deep breath, your boots clicking on the path as you make your way up to the door, supported by a big wooden patio and a bench out front. It reminds you of home a little; your western-themed Dreamhouse, clad with old wooden floors and southern-style windows.

Before you can talk yourself out of it, you raise a hand and knock, waiting with baited breath before you hear footsteps on the other side and the door swings open.

And there she is. Sarah.

She’s a little older than she was in the most recent memories you saw, around 16 now. She’s tall, with a purple cardigan on and pretty blue jeans that you’re jealous of already. Her smile is bright, precious, and if you didn’t know better you’d think she was a Barbie herself.

“Can I help you?” She asks, looking you up and down with a slightly confused, but still polite expression. 

You stall, the introduction you’d prepared completely forgotten, your mouth just opening and closing like a fish out of water. Sarah’s expression becomes one of concern more than anything, and she reaches out a soft hand to touch your arm, making you jump.

“Oh! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…” she pauses, looking you over again. “Sorry, do I… do I know you?”

You stumble again, trying to find the right words, and she must see how genuinely nervous you are because she searches behind you into the street, then pulls you inside and shuts the door. “Come on, you need something to drink.”

She leads you to the kitchen, a beautifully decorated but old fashioned room with porcelain tiles and wooden beams across the ceiling. You trace your fingers across the counter top, looking around in awe while Sarah pours you a glass of lemonade. 

Your eyes fall to the corner of the room, where her school bag sits, and a familiar-looking cowboy hat pokes out. You walk towards it without thinking and pull out the doll, admiring the little plastic version of yourself.

“Oh, that’s - that’s not what it looks like. I’m not… I don’t play with dolls anymore, obviously, I just…”

Sarah’s voice trails off, and you assume she’s embarrassed, but when you turn to face her you realise it’s not that at all. She’s staring at you, then the doll, then back at you, with a cocktail of confusion and realisation on her face. 

“You’re dressed… you look exactly like her. What -“ She’s cut off by the front door slamming shut, and a familiar voice shouting down the hall, “Sarah? I’m home.”

Her eyes widen, quickly looking for somewhere she to hide you, the stranger she’s invited in, panicking as her Dad’s footsteps get louder.

But it’s too late. Joel stands in the door frame, staring at you, then shooting Sarah a look that says, ‘the fuck is this?’

“Dad, I can explain-“ he cuts her off, staring you in the eye and taking a step towards you. He looks older than he did in your memories - not in the way that Sarah does, but in a tired way, like he’d worked a hundred years and counting. Grey curls wash over his head, matched by a silvery beard and sunken eyes, and for all the Kens you’ve known in your life, you don’t think you’ve met anyone as handsome as him.

“Who the fuck are you?” He asks - no, demands, one arm protectively stretched in Sarah’s direction.

“I- I’m- Barbie. I’m Barbie.” You stutter, clutching the doll a little tighter in your hand. Joel’s face scrunches angrily, and he looks at Sarah again, who just shrugs.

“You’re fuckin’ what?” He asks, clearly unimpressed.

You panic, holding up the doll to your face, showing him the obvious similarities between you. The same clothes, same hairstyle, same eyes. 

“You know, Cowgirl Barbie. Sarah’s Barbie,” you explain, a little more confident now, hoping they’d accept your explanation.

Your hopes are quickly dashed as Joel asks Sarah, “do you know this clown?” 

His arms are clenched, and you try not to worry about what’s coming next.

“No, Dad, but-“

He cuts her off. “So you just invited this crazy person into our home?” 

He’s shouting now, and you recoil, remembering Barbara’s first experience meeting Sasha. You wonder if this is worse.

“Dad, don’t talk about her like that,” Sarah shouts back. It makes you feel at least a little better, but it’s too late. Joel’s incensed, shouting about stranger danger and how you’re probably an escapee from some mental asylum, how weird it is that you know what dolls she owns and how to dress like them. 

“- and you” he looks directly at you now, pointing. “You get the hell out of my home and you don’t speak to my daughter ever again, you hear me?”

Tears stream down your face as you nod, throwing the doll onto the counter and running past Sarah and Joel and out of the house. You can barely make it out the front door, stumbling against the columns on the patio, before making it just far enough onto the grass outside to stumble to your knees and let yourself cry properly.

That same, overwhelming loneliness fills you again, tearing deep into your chest and only adding to your pain. Your shoulders shake, and you try to remind yourself of what they teach you at Barbieland; crying is good, hurting is good. It means you’re alive.

But it really doesn’t feel good right now.

You can hear the faint sound of the door opening and closing, but you don’t really register it, not until you feel a soft hand on your shoulder.

You look behind you, meeting Sarah’s apologetic eyes, and you try to wipe your own of their flood of tears. 

“Oh no, I’m sorry, I must look horrible,” you laugh, though it’s forced.

Sarah smiles, sitting down in front of you, knees crossed. “I think you look beautiful.”

And that makes you really smile.

You giggle, pulling off your cowboy hat and setting it on the grass beside you. Your denim jacket feels a little hot now, too tight, but you try to ignore the feeling and focus on getting your breathing back to normal.

“Is it true? Are you really… her?” 

Sarah’s question is soft, like she doesn’t know quite which answer she wants. You only nod, fiddling with your hands in your lap.

“You’re Barbie?” She asks again, and you can tell she’s expecting a reply this time.

“Cowgirl Barbie,” you answer, still only looking at your hands. 

“God, you know, when Stereotypical Barbie came here, she had such a good time. Mind you, that was in LA, so -“

Sarah cuts you off with a gasp. “Wait, that was real? I heard about that! It was all over Twitter - Barbie and Ken on roller skates in LA, Barbie in a pink cowboy outfit-“

“Yes!” You exclaim, excited - “she told me all about it! She chose the cowboy outfit ‘cos it reminded her of me, you know. We’re best friends.” 

You’re showing off a little now, but you don’t care - it feels good to talk, to be believed.

Sarah watches you in awe. “Wow. So this is, like, real. This is real? You’re Barbie. Where’s Ken?”

“Oh, he had to stay back at home. Well, he didn’t have to, he would’ve come if I asked him to. He’s really sweet. I just… I didn’t wanna be a burden.” You explain, grateful he hadn’t seen you crying like this now you think about it.

“But isn’t he, like, your boyfriend? I’m sure he wouldn't mind.” Sarah replies.

“Oh, he isn’t my boyfriend,” you giggle at the thought. “No, no, we don’t really do that in Barbieland. Everyone’s their own person and makes themselves happy, no need for boyfriends and girlfriends. Even the Kens!”

“Rad,” Sarah grins, liking the sound of Barbieland. “So… why are you here?”

You reply honestly, there’s no use in skirting around it anymore. “Well… I feel what you feel, Sarah. And when you’re sad, and lonely, I feel that too. That’s why I came, to help you feel better.”

“Oh.” It’s all she says.

“Why do you feel like that?” Your tears have stopped by now, your face left red and puffy. You try not to start up again as you watch her face twist at your question.

“Just… stuff. With my dad. He’s never here anymore, always at work. It used to be just me and him against the world, you know? And now it feels like… like it’s just me.”

You pout, rubbing a hand on her knee. “I’m sure he doesn’t mean it, Sarah. You always have each other, just like the watch says.” 

You smile, trying to be as comforting as possible, but it’s quickly wiped away by the look of shock on her face. 

You’re about to ask her what’s the matter when a southern drawl sounds from behind you, “how do you know that?”

You turn, facing Joel who stands on the steps of the porch, a hand on the railing. Your nerves set in again immediately, and you turn in on yourself, trying not to cry.

“Um, the watch, the one from Sarah. That’s what it says, right?” You can see that very watch strapped to Joel’s wrist, the glass broken, and he brings his other hand to touch it. 

“No one else knows what’s written on that watch,” Sarah says, and you whip around to face her, “holy shit, this is really, really real, isn’t it? You’re her?”

You just nod, and she lets out a laugh, springing forward to hug you. You yelp in surprise but hug her back immediately, revelling in the feeling of wet grass hitting your back. Sarah pulls away, looking up at her Dad with pleading eyes, “come on Dad, you know this is real. She’s real. We have to let her stay.”

You sit up again, grabbing your hat and standing, facing Joel though your eyes stay trained on the floor. He’s silent for a long time, thinking, before he grunts and you can just about make out a whisper of “fine” as Sarah celebrates and leads you back into the house.

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

You stay there a few days, mostly keeping out of Joel’s way. They set you up in the spare bedroom, but Sarah comes to get you most nights, and you stay up together having sleepovers and telling stories.

You tell her all about Barbieland, about the beautiful beaches and all-woman Supreme Court, the Dreamhouses and the perfectly blue skies. She tells you about her life, the latest drama at school, about Brad the boy who won’t leave her alone and Jenny, her best friend who definitely fancies Brad. It’s incredibly exciting, and you wonder why you never left for the real world sooner.

Barbara’s ecstatic for you, of course; she’s staying in a nearby hotel for as long as you need her there, you even plan to introduce her to Sarah soon.

You wake up one morning, covered in a duvet somewhere in the corner of Sarah’s room, a host of her other old toys laid out where she’d been explaining each one to you last night. You wondered if there’s a Thomas The Tank Engine Land, too.

There are voices downstairs, and for all the rules of politeness and social expectations you’ve learned, you can’t help but tiptoe to the top of the landing and listen in to the conversation. To make sure Sarah’s okay, more than anything.

“Oh come on, Dad. It’s just one day!” Sarah almost shouts, though it’s obvious she’s trying to keep her voice down. They both are.

“Sarah, I gotta go to work. How the hell am I meant to keep a walking-talking Barbie doll entertained for 7 hours, huh? You want me to talk about makeup and glitter?” Joel’s voice is thick and annoyed, though he’s noticeably gentler when he talks to her.

Sarah scoffs, and you can’t see her, but you know she’s rolling her eyes. “She’s more than that, Dad. She’s smart, and she’s caring. Just - just do this for me, okay? And as soon as I’m back from school, I’ll take her off your hands.”

You can’t see them, but you hear their footsteps walk a little closer to the stairwell. “Fine, fine. Whatever. You better go and wake her up then, cos I gotta leave in 20,” Joel resigns.

You see the top of Sarah’s head from your view between the bannisters, and quickly hurry back to her room and under the sheets. She enters, sitting beside your spot on the floor and whispering, “Barbie? Hey Barbie, wake up!”

You feign tiredness, lifting your head and smiling at the girl. “Oh hey, Sarah, good morning.”

She giggles, and you’re quickly aware of your bedhead, something you never experienced in Barbieland. She talks as you grab a brush and fix yourself up.

“So look, I gotta go to school today. But my Dad agreed to take you with him to work so you’re not on your own… is that okay?” 

She must see the slight panic in your eyes,  as she quickly scrambles to reassure you. 

“I know he was a bit of a hot head when you first met him, but he’s just… protective. But he’s sweet, really. Just give him a chance.”

You think about it for a moment. Barbara is still staying nearby, and you know she’d come and hang out with you while you wait for Sarah to come home if you asked. But then again, maybe it’d be good to spend some time with Joel/ It’s obvious that a lot of what brought you here comes down to their relationship, and if you can help to fix that even just a little bit, then your journey will have been worth it.

“Okay,” you answer, giving Sarah a small smile. She grins, standing up and grabbing her school bag before shouting over her shoulder as she leaves the room, “great! He’s going in 20 minutes… better get ready!” 

You gasp, jumping up from your little nest on the floor and searching through the duffel bag Barbara packed for you of outfits to wear, all western-themed of course.

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

Car rides with Joel are… awkward, to say the least. 

He drives in silence, no radio, just the slow drone of traffic outside echoing between you, whistling through the open windows.

His car is very different to the ones in Barbieland. It doesn’t have an open top, the seats are worn and rough to the touch. The smell of coffee and cigarettes hangs in the air, and though you’re not used to it, you still find it comforting. Safe.

You reach for the radio, looking for a tune to play and maybe even sing - you’re sure that’ll cheer him up. But he stops you, not hurting you at all but batting your hand away and finally taking his eyes off the road.

“Don’t touch that,” he grunts, and you shrink back in on yourself again. He recoils a little, like he’s trying to appear less aggressive, and refocuses on the road.

“Sorry,” you mutter, shy.

He shakes his head, resting his elbow on the window beside him and readjusting himself, clearly uncomfortable. Whether it’s you or just the way he’s sat, you don’t know.

“‘S fine,” he mutters, barely audible. You nod, unsure of what else to say after that. You’re not looking at him, though you can see his movements in the edge of your peripheral, and you’re certain you can see him glancing at you every couple of minutes.

He finally speaks again after a long span of silence. 

“So…” he starts, tentative. “Is it hard to get here? From- from Barbieland?”

You turn, though he isn’t facing you, eyes trained on the road. You keep looking at him anyway - this is progress at least.

“It’s pretty simple. First you drive, then you cycle, then take a boat, then a rocketship, then you stay in a campervan for a little while, then a snowmobile and voila! You’re rollerskating into LA.” You grin, recounting your adventure into the real world, happy to be able to share it with him. You’re not sure what it is about him, but there’s just something inside of you that’s desperate for him to get you. To care. 

Joel just grunts, rubbing his thumb and forefinger between his brows, and you’re worried for a second that he doesn’t believe you, again. But he doesn’t press, instead he seems to be thinking, and then he asks another question.

“How do you get back?”

“Gotta do all that in reverse,” you answer, giggling. You’re sure you can see the slightest pull of his lips, the hint of a smile, but it’s gone just as quickly as it appeared.

You decide to try and engage him, let him talk. “Do you like what you do? For work?”

He just grunts again, and your shoulders sink, giving up. He doesn’t want to talk to you. 

You decide not to press him further, but you can see him continue to glance at you a few times out of the corner of your eye, and there must be something in the air because he sighs before talking, a vulnerability in his voice.

“I used to. My Dad did it, contracting. Used to take me and my brother out every weekend and show us the trade. And when I started my business, that was good. Things were good. Now…” he trails off with a sigh.

“Things aren’t good?” You ask, trying to be careful. Trying to encourage him. 

He nods. “Things are different, now. Busy. It’s a hard business.”

You don’t reply, not because you don’t want to, but because you’re not sure how. Joel doesn’t seem to mind. After a few moments, he pulls up at a red light, switching gears and finally looking at you properly. 

“What do you do? In Barbieland?”

“Cowgirl,” you reply, being the one to avoid his gaze now.

“Cowgirl?” He repeats, and you only nod, offering a small smile and waiting for his reaction.

“So is that, like, on a ranch?” 

He’s switching gears again, cruising through the now green light and continuing the drive, muttering something about ‘almost there’ as you arrive in an upscale neighbourhood, lined with huge houses and cars that even the Barbies don’t have.

You shrug, self conscious, but you answer him. You owe him that. He did it for you. 

“No, just… you know. I wear the hat, and the denim and the boots. And I just… cowgirl. That’s what I do.”

He nods, and for the first time since you met him, you’re not nervous about what he’ll say next. You feel comfortable with him, safe even, and you’re not sure what it is about this little drive that’s flipped that switch, but you think he might feel the same way.

“Does it pay well?” He asks, a playfulness in his tone that you haven’t seen in him before. It’s like he’s lit up over the course of your conversation.

You grin, meeting his eyes properly now, where he draws away for a moment at a time to check the road but lets his gaze fall back on you straight after. 

“Better than contracting,” you sass. You’re not sure where the cockiness comes from, whether you’re matching his tone or you just feel that comfortable with him, and for a moment you’re worried you’ve offended him with the joke.

But then he laughs.

It’s not hysterics, but it isn’t an amused ‘huff’ either. It’s like a giggle, a bright, giddy laugh that spreads across his face and makes his eyes light up like stars in the sky. It’s beautiful. It’s sweet.

You tell him as much.

“You have a pretty smile.”

He slows a little, his mouth quickly reigning in its smile and his chest no longer bubbling with that sweetness it had before. But he doesn’t look angry, or offended. He looks as though he’s not quite sure what to do. Like no one’s ever told him that before.

“Thank you,” he whispers, the words quickly blowing away with the wind through the open window. You smile in reply, and he watches, neither of you seeming to notice that he’s stopped the car and you’ve reached your destination. Neither of you move.

And then he says the sweetest words you’ve ever heard. 

“So do you.”

It’s gentle, mumbled so lowly you almost think he doesn’t want you to hear it, and yet it hits you in the chest like a lorry. 

You’ve been told that before, of course you have. You’re a Barbie. Whether it’s the other Barbies complementing one another, or the Kens trying to flirt, or Allen just being the nice guy he is, you’ve heard those words before. 

But you’ve never heard them like this, like they’re hard to say, but they need to be said anyway. 

It’s powerful.

You smile again, so does he. You stay in the car a little while longer, in silence again, but it’s a silence laced with comfort and feelings you don’t know how to label. Until he finally breaks the spell, climbing out of the car and helping you out on your side.

He spends the day showing you his work, how to plan builds, how to measure up wood and mark all the right places to cut it. You learn there’s a key named after Allen, and Joel snorts when you tell him how excited you are to let him know that. He even lets you hammer a few nails, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make your heart flutter when he puts his arms around you to guide your movements, his breath in your ear.

And things are good after that day. Really good.

The three of you spend time together, as much as you can, almost like a family. You’ve never experienced family before, true family, but when you’re sat on the sofa with Sarah on a cushion on the floor and Joel to your side, just out of reach, you wonder if this is what it means to be home.

Of course, you quickly understand what Sarah means when she says she’s lonely. You know exactly where that feeling in your chest is coming from, because the times he’s with you are so fleeting, so far and few inbetween, that it feels like gold dust when you have him and like a black hole when you don’t.

And it’s only been a week before you realise just what it means, these feelings, and how they’re not like anything you’ve felt before.

Sarah reads you like a book, cornering you one day as you play dress up in her room. 

“So, you like my Dad?” She asks, a knowing smirk already painted on her lips.

You splutter for a moment, trying to think of a rebuttal, but you give up because you know she has you nailed down. You know she knows.

“Is it that obvious?” You wince, making her grin spread even further. 

“Only, like, all the time,” she laughs, and you flip down on the bed dramatically, making her laugh more. “You know he likes you too, right?”

You sit up again in a flash, eyes wide and searching hers. She raises a brow as you stare, your mind racing - she wouldn’t joke about that, would she? “How do you know?” You ask.

She rolls her eyes, taking a seat beside you on the bed. “Oh come on, man. It’s so obvious. He always talks about you, Barbie said this, Barbie did that’.” She mocks his deep southern drawl, making you giggle. “And he’s always looking at you.”

You blush - you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t noticed. You suppose a part of you just never let yourself believe he could feel the same way.

“What do you think I should do?” You’re nervous now, unsure of yourself. Unsure if this is real.

Sarah smiles, a cheeky sort of grin that doesn’t make you feel particularly at ease, and pats your knee with her hand. “Leave it with me.”

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

She calls you down that night, late, not long after Joel came home from work. You switch off the documentary you were watching, something about the animal kingdom, one that amazed you with all the creatures that walk the earth around you. 

You tiptoe down the stairs, calling out Sarah’s name when you can’t find her in the front room, confused. You hear her again, distantly, like she’s outside, and you follow the sound through the kitchen and out the back door, where you’re greeted with the alluring smell of a sizzling barbecue.

“What is this?” You ask, stepping fully outside and taking in the scene. The backyard, usually overgrown and unkept, is littered with fairylights that wrap around the patio columns and line the fence right down to the end. The Miller’s barbecue is fired up, with an array of vegetable skewers and sausages and burgers cooking on top, Sarah proudly stood beside it in her apron while Joel watches, concerned.

Joel. He’s sat at the little table she’s put together, a round glass one with mismatched chairs on either side. He’s dressed up - his hair looks neater than usual, like he’s put extra care into styling it properly. His shirt isn’t plaid, or denim; it’s a light blue colour that matches the brown of his eyes so wonderfully. He looks nervous.

“Hi,” he says, gentle and soft. Your eyes must be wide and confused, because he doesn’t say anything else, just looks at Sarah for support. She rolls her eyes - again - and puts down the tongs she’d been using to flip the burgers. 

“You two are so boring pining over each other. So, I’ve set up a date!” She grins, turning back to the food without a care in the world.

You nod, taking another step forward, looking back toward Joel and not bothering to fight the smile that spreads on your face. 

He doesn’t fight his, either. 

You reach out for the chair opposite him, but before you can, he’s standing up and pulling it out for you, his eyes meeting yours.

Not one of the Kens have ever pulled out a seat for you, you think, thanking Joel and sitting on the little chair. He returns to his own seat, clearing his throat and pouring you a drink; red wine, a new favourite of yours since he introduced you to it. 

Sarah plates up the food, setting it down in front of you in a dramatic waiter-style fashion. 

“You’re certainly my daughter, huh?” Joel asks, pride in his eyes as he looks at the food, which you have to admit looks pretty damn good.

“The student has become the master,” she quips, and your heart melts at the sweet moment between the two. 

“Now, you two enjoy. I’ll be in my room. If you need anything… get it yourself. The kitchen is literally right there.”

You and Joel roll your eyes as Sarah bows out, laughing at her own jokes and giving a final wave as she heads into the house, leaving you both alone.

“So,” you begin, unsure of what to say.

“So.” Joel mimics, though you don’t think he plans to say anything after that. He’s not one to initiate conversation.

But then again, people can change. 

“You look really nice,” he says, his eyes so heavy set on you that it makes you feel flush. You look down, at the old baggy top you’re wearing over grey sweats, and you’re suddenly self conscious compared to his nice shirt and carefully-put hair.

“I don’t,” you reply, embarrassed. “I look like a mess.”

He interjects immediately. “No. You don’t. How could you? I mean you’re literally - you’re -“ he can’t find his words.

You finish the sentence for him. “A Barbie.”

“Yeah.”

You’re not sure why it makes you feel the way that it does. Sad. Like you’re not quite real to him, a novelty. He sighs, and for all the time you’ve spent with him by now, you can’t read what’s going on behind the man’s eyes at all.

You sit in silence for a short while, enjoying Sarah’s food, drinking wine. There’s something hanging in the air, heavy and strange, and neither of you know how to address it.

It surprises you when Joel finally breaks the silence again. “Do you miss home?” He asks, pouring you another glass.

You think for a moment. You answer honestly. “I don’t know.” His eyebrow quirks, motioning for you to continue.

“There was a time when I’d have never even dreamed of leaving Barbieland. When I didn’t want anything to change. But things are different now, since Ster- since Barbara left. Everyone thinks differently, feels differently. It’s a very different place. And suddenly everything that made me love Barbieland doesn’t matter to me anymore. The perfect wardrobe, the perfect house, the perfect life. None of that matters. It’s the things here, in this world, that matter.”

“What things?” Joel asks, and it’s only now that you notice his hand has migrated across the table, holding your much smaller one. You wrap your fingers around his, revelling in the small squeeze he gives you, fighting back a smile.

You’re staring at your interlocked hands when you answer. “Family. Purpose.” 

You look at him. “Love.”

He breathes out, like he’s letting something go, something that made him scared but doesn’t anymore. You squeeze his hand.

The rest of the night goes smoothly. It’s sweet, comfortable. It’s nice. 

Until you put your foot in it.

“Do you still feel lonely?” Joel asks, the buzz of red wine making his drawl even heavier.

You smile, glossy eyes doting on him, hands still intertwined. “Well, I felt lonely because Sarah felt lonely. So… no. I feel good.”

Joel frowns, his head tilts. “Do you know why she felt like that?”

You’re not sure how to approach this with him. It’s something you’ve thought about, pondered for days, turned over and over in your mind with no good resolution.

You know exactly why she felt like that. She told you as much.

My Dad’s never here. He’s always away, working. I don’t see him.

But you also know it’s a truth he won’t accept. Not easily, at least.

“Well,” you begin, treading lightly. “I think she just… misses you, Joel. Misses her Dad.”

He’s confused. He pulls away from you, his grip on your hand loosens. “But I’m here.” It’s an assertion, challenging your suggestion.

“I know, I know. But you’re not… you’re not here. You come home from work late, you’re tired, you go to bed. You wake up and before we can even say ‘good morning’ you’re out the door again, going to work.”

His jaw flickers, in that same way it did when you first met. He’s angry. 

“I do what i have to do to support my family,” he grumbles, fully retracting his hand now. You feel the loss of his touch instantly, in your heart. 

That same loneliness sets in again, but it’s not Sarah’s anymore. No, it belongs solely, wholly, to you.

You try to placate him. “I know, Joel, I know. I get it. I just -”

“Just what?” He interrupts you, and you pause, scared to speak. Scared to mess this up.

“She needs you to talk to her. She needs you to listen to her. She needs you to hold her and let her know she’s not alone. She doesn’t see that right now, Joel.”

He doesn’t reply, just stares into space, arms folded. Guarded.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper.

“‘That how it works in Barbieland? Everyone gets what they want, everyone’s happy?” He asks, agitated.

You shake your head. “No, Joel, I-”

“‘Cos that’s not how the real world works, sweetheart. Everythin’ ain’t perfect. The trees ain’t made of cotton fuckin’ candy.” He sneers, mocking you, and the words pierce through you like knives.

“And I ain’t taking parenting advice from no Barbie doll.” 

That really, really hurts.

And it makes you angry, because for all your faults and weaknesses, being a Barbie certainly isn’t one of them.

“Why are you being so defensive?” You ask, your tone rising to match his. “You know I'm right. All that girl wants is her Dad, not a stranger who’s barely there, not a ghost that puts food on the table but won’t even come home on time for her. She wants her Dad, Joel.”

He stands, slamming his palms on the glass with so much force you fear it’ll shatter. He doesn’t shout, but his words are sharp, pointed, and they land exactly where he intended them to.

“You have no idea what it’s like. You’re stuck in your fantasy world, where everything’s pink, but you haven’t got a clue what it’s like to live in the real world. So why don’t you head back to your special Barbieland and leave the actual living, the hard parts, to the rest of us, huh?”

Tears threaten to spill on your cheeks, your eyes burning from the strain of holding them back. “Joel, you don’t mean that-”

“Yes, I do. Just… just get out of my house.” 

He walks away from the table, crossing his arms and facing away from you, staring out into the night. You nod, to yourself if no one else, breaking your strength as a sob racks through your body. You clasp a shaking hand to your mouth, not wanting him to hear you, but you see the way his shoulders clench. He heard. 

He doesn’t react further, though. Doesn’t turn. Doesn’t make sure you’re okay.

So you do what he said. You leave.

You stalk past Sarah, wiping away the onslaught of tears that have taken hold now, ignoring her as she shouts between you and Joel. “Guys? What’s going on?”

She doesn't follow you upstairs, choosing to give you space and speak to her Dad instead, you think. You text Barbara, asking her to pick you up, and shove your clothes into your bag as quickly as you can in spite of your blurred vision and the messy hair that covers your face. 

You’re not sure how long it’s been, you’d have only thought seconds if you didn’t know Barbara’s hotel was at least 10 minutes away, but you hear her beep the horn from outside and follows its direction.

Sarah’s waiting for you at the bottom of the stairs. You look down the hall, where Joel sits at the kitchen counter, arms still folded and head down.

“Please,” Sarah begs, “don’t go.” She’s crying, and it makes your heart hurt more.

“I have to.” 

You try to move past her, but she stops you, blocking the way with her body. “Sarah, I have to,” you repeat, choking on your own sobs.

“Why?” She shouts, hot tears staining her face. “My Dad told me what happened. You’re right. He’s wrong, he’s always wrong. He’s never here, but you are, and now you’re leaving me like everyone else. Like my Mom.”

Your nose scrunches. More tears fall. Your chest hurts. “I’m not your Mom, Sarah. And your Dad… he loves you. He loves you so much. Promise me you’ll remember that, okay? He loves you. I love you.”

She doesn’t stop you when you try to leave again. You all but run out the door, the once comfortable night air now painful as it hits your wet cheeks, ice cold. Barbara looks at you with more concern than you’ve seen her with before, more than when she discovered the Mojo Dojo Casa Houses, but you say nothing as you get in the car. You just stare straight ahead, and she drives.

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

“I’m so sorry, Barbie. I never thought it’d end like this.”

Barbara’s holding your hands, reluctant to let go. You don’t know when you’ll see her again. “It’s not your fault,” you reply, and it’s true. It’s not her fault. It’s yours.

“And it isn’t yours, Barbie,” she retorts, like she can read your mind. You just nod, unconvincing, but she doesn’t push it.

You hug her, for the millionth time since she took you home from Joel and Sarah’s house, since she flew back to LA with you. And now here you are, at Venice Beach with your roller skates on, going back to the place you’ve always called home.

So why does it feel like you’re going anywhere but?

“Thank you for everything, Barbara. I mean it.” You pull back, wiping a tear from her cheek and smiling the best you can, your own tears rolling down your face like the skaters behind you.

She smiles back, and though she doesn’t say anything, she doesn’t need to. You know she loves you. You know she’ll miss you.

And with that, you pull away, pushing on each skate until you’re rolling away from the real world and back into your own. Back where you belong, where you’re supposed to be. Where you’re actually wanted.

There are people pointing, laughing at you as you skate past them, but you don’t care. You haven’t cared about anything since last night.

You can see the snowscape ahead, the next part of your journey. Your next step towards Barbieland and a world of pink perfection.

A world that isn’t the same to you now.

You’re nearly there, about to switch skates for the snowmobile, when a familiar, desperate voice comes from behind you.

“Barbie! Barbie, wait!”

You brake, skates screeching on the ground, as you turn to search for him in the crowd.

And there he is, Joel, clinging to a ramp on the left side of the park with the most ridiculous pair of neon green roller skates you’ve ever seen.

“Joel?” You call, immediately rolling over to him when you realise how much he’s struggling. If you weren’t so filled with the joy of seeing him here, you’d laugh at the state he’s in; eyes wide and legs falling beneath him, clearly not used to roller skating. “What are you doing here?”

“I- I wanted to- jesus, if I could just stand up-” You giggle, and he shoots you a look, which just makes you laugh harder. You help him up, laying a gentle hand on his chest as he nearly falls again, your other hand clinging to his waist as he finally finds his balance.

He’s blushing, embarrassed, but there’s something else in his eyes as they finally settle on you and he sighs. “Barbie, I’m so sorry.”

You’re not sure where to look. At him, at your hands, at those ridiculous roller skates he’s wearing. Of course, you can’t pull your eyes from him, anyway.

“It’s - it’s okay. You were right anyway, I’m not-”

“No, no,” he interrupts, placing both hands on your cheeks and quickly stumbling as he loses his balance again without the support of the rail. You hold him, giggling as he almost brings you both down, though you manage to keep him upright and he laughs right there with you.

“Jesus, this is embarrassing,” he finally huffs, and your head falls against his chest. When you raise it again, he’s already looking at you, with those big brown eyes that you never want to forget.

“I wasn’t right. I was an asshole. A huge, insecure asshole.” You try to shake your head, to disagree, but he doesn’t let you. “Just let me say this,” he begs. You let him.

“You were right. I haven’t been there for her. I haven’t been the Dad she needs me to be. I’m just… I’m just scared. Of not being good enough. Of letting her down. So I work, and come home late, and leave early, and I convince myself it’s the right thing to do. But I’m hurting her. And I hurt you.”

There’s pain in his eyes, and it pains you as if they were your own. 

“I haven’t seen Sarah this happy in a long time,” he continues, resting a hand on your cheek again, carefully this time. “Barbie, I haven’t been this happy in a long time.”

You don’t know what to say. You take your hand from his waist, tentative, making sure the other one is stable on his chest. You place it over his where it rests on your cheek, folding your fingers around his own, and turning to press a gentle kiss into his palm. He mumbles something, you don’t hear what, but from the look in his eyes you think you know.

“Don’t go,” he begs. “Don’t - don’t go back there. I want you here. You belong here.”

You look into his eyes. You know he means it. 

And so you do the only thing that makes any sense in this moment. 

You kiss him.

You’re careful to keep him upright, but he seems to have stopped caring about that; instead both hands are on you again, frantic, holding you tight like he never wants to lose you again.

When you finally break the kiss, neither of you pull away from one another, your foreheads connected and breaths intertwined. 

“Okay,” you gasp, pulling on his shirt. “Okay. I’ll stay.”

Joel closes his eyes again, sighing in relief as you finally release your other hand, touching it to his neck and feeling the rapid pulse that beats against it. You’re holding one another so closely, so tightly, that there’s no way he can fall now.

“You’ll come back to Texas?” He asks, like he still doesn’t quite believe you.

You nod again, giggling at the joy that spreads on his face, though it’s quickly muffled when he kisses you again. And again, and again and again until you’re breathless and sweaty and no longer sure which of you needs help staying upright the most.

You help him turn, wrapping your arms around his waist and supporting him as you try to make your way back across the park, and only then do you see Barbara and Sarah stood to the sidelines, watching, smiling.

You realise Sarah has her phone out, pointed at her Dad, and you’re pretty sure Joel sees it too but before he can say anything, he slips again and falls flat on his bum on the floor, bringing you right down with him.

You gasp, cushioned by his chest and his protective arms around you, laughing hysterically as he groans and sits up. You watch as his face turns from pain into anger, his eyes fixated on something ahead, and you think you know what it is-

“Sarah! Delete that video right now!”

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

Tag list: @vickie5446 @skysmiller @none-of-this-makes-any-sense @letmehavemyfictionalmen

[poppyflower-22]

Wild Wild West Proposal

Summary: Lando finally proposes to his barrel racing girl in the place they first met.

Side note: Properly spelling errors. I'm Australian so if some slang doesn't make sense google it. Short one.

Wild Wild West

Masterlist

Being in love is something Lando never thought he would feel again after his past relationship failed over and over again. But he swore to anyone that listened that Y/n was the woman for him.

Thats why he stood to the side of the bar watching her dance with Lilly and having fun. The same bar that they had met in one year ago.

Lando could feel the ring in his pocket, having put it in his pocket before they made their way to the bar. Oscar stood next to him also watching the girls but also watching Lando.

He had known what was going to happen, Lando having told him and asking him to go ring shopping with him. Oscar was happy for his cousin. Happy that she was finding love.

"Nervous mate?" Oscar asked Lando.

Lando shot him a nervous smile. "Sort of. I have a feeling she'll say yes." He answered his friend.

Oscar laughed. "She would be a fool to say no." The two laughed together before looking back at their partners that were line dancing with the other town people.

"Have you two talked more about the move?" Oscar asked sipping from his beer.

Y/n had moved into his Monaco apartment after only three months of dating. It was different for the girl who was used to space and the fresh Australian county air but she wouldn't have it have any other way. And plus, she visited all the time.

But recently they have been talking about moving and actually buying a house together. They just don't known where though.

What Y/n didn't know though was Lando had been looking secretly at houses.

"Yeah. We want to but it's just were."

"Do you not want to move from Monaco or just not to Australia?" Oscar questioned.

Lando signed taking a sip of his beer. "I want whatever will make her happy." He looked at Y/n as she swayed to the song with Lilly, laughing with her.

Oscar looked at the love on his friend face and he knew that Lando would move to Australia just for her. "Well, whatever you chose just make sure you have enough room for all your trophies and belt buckles." Oscar joked making Lando laugh.

In their Monaco apartment when Y/n moved in she had so many trophies and belt buckles that the spare room just become an adcement room.

"Well, I did put a down payment on a house. Here in Australia." Lando confessed making Oscar look wide eyed.

"Wow." Oscar breathed out.

Lando nodded. "Yeah. It's her surprise after the proposal." He gained from ear to ear.

Oscar shook his head with a smile. His friend was so wiped for his cousin.

Y/n moved with Lilly to their partners. Y/n wrapped her arms around his neck making him grin. "Hey cowboy." She smirked. Lando was wearing a black dress shirt, black cowboy hat and she had managed to get him into some boots and wranglers.

"Hey cowgirl."

Their lips pressed together for a kiss that was interrupted by Oscar groaning by the display of affection from his cousin and friend. "Please not in front of me."

Lilly hit him on the chest, "Stop it there in love." Oscar held his hands up in mock offence making all four them laugh.

"Well, if our affection is so disturbing for you, well take this outside." Lando shot back leading Y/n outside with a hand on her back.

"Have fun." Oscar called out shooting Lando a wink and Lilly shooting him a thumbs up. Knowing what he was about to do.

Oscar and Lilly looked over at John and nodded. He knew what he had to do to make it even better.

Lando giggled as Y/n ran out through the flower field behind the bar. The moon was shining bright making it not hard for them to see each other. And plus, the lights from the bar were pretty bright.

Y/n grinned and called out, "Catch me if you can." She teased.

"Oh, this girl." Lando smiled before taking of and chasing her. There laughs made John lift his head from where he was setting up the fireworks and smile.

Lando had caught Y/n around the waist making her shriek in laughter. He placed her down and turned her around to face him and placed a delicate kiss on her lips.

"I love you." he whispered looking into her eyes.

"And I love you." She whispered back before wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him deeper.

Lando broke the kiss as Y/n pouted, "As much as I want to kiss you and much, much more I don't want to it in the field in the middle of the night almost."

"Weve done much worse out here." She teased with a smile.

Lando shook his head with his owns mile, "Yeah that's true but there something I need to do first."

Y/n frowned, "Okay?" She frowned even further when he backed up from her.

He sighed and reached for her hand. They both could hear the song 'Mr. red, white and blue' playing. Lando didn't get down on one knee not just yet.

"God I'm nervous." He laughed nervously. He looked right at her and smiled. "I remember when I first saw you. I thought you were the most beautiful person in my life. Like God was sending me an angle. That night and every night since then had been the best I could Evey wish. You have seen my bad and good sides and still stuck around, I don't think I will ever love another person in my lifetime or the next more then you Y/n." He smiled with tears in his eyes.

Y/n sniffled making Lando wipe the tear away with his thumb. "Don't cry."

"Can't help it." She whispered. She smiled at him. She had a knowing on what was coming. And she was ready. But she would let him bear his heart out for her first.

Lando smiled softly. "I knew from the moment you moved in with me I would want to marry you and want my life around you." Lando took one step back and then got on one knee making Y/n gasp. "Will you Y/n Piastri make me the happiest man in every lifetime and marry me?"

"Yes." Y/n trembled out making him smile so big. he quickly put the ring on her finger and kissed her just as fireworks went off. They both looked up at the sky and saw all kinds of colors in the fireworks. They held each other as the fresh air tickled their skin.

Y/n Laughed through her tears as Lando smiled back down at her and kissed her again. A kiss of passion and love. It couldn't all be put in a kiss. But God did he try.

Cheering made them look over and saw most of the people form the bar looking at them.

"Wow!" Oscar yelled out. Possibly drunk already in that short time.

Y/n giggled and leaned on Lando's chest. "I love you so much." She told him. And she would continue telling him. She admired the ring, it was a simple proposal ring noting big but not small.

Lando tilted her head up to look at him. "Not as much as me." He told her before placing a kiss on her lips as the fireworks went off around them.

As the fireworks go of above them while they kiss. They both knew that they were it for each other. No one would ever compare to the love they had for each other. It was unique and that was the best kind of love.

It was a picture-perfect proposal for them. It wasn't the kind where you do big things and spend so much money. It was something between them both. Something that they would forever cherish more than money.

"Also, I brought us a house in Australia."

"You what!?"

End.

@toldyouitwasamelodrama

[wwatabae]

Unspeakable Desires

NSFW !!

Pairing: Blade x GN!reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, blowjob, masturbation, dirty talk, praise, kissing, cowboy/cowgirl, office sex, pet names, creampie.

Assistant!blade, CEO!reader, Submissive top!blade, Power bottom!reader.

You're the CEO of your company, and you have a very responsible and reliable assistant named blade. Since the very beginning, you already noticed by the way he stared you down, eyes full of love, and passion. After all, you have always had a keen eye for these kinds of things.  One night, while you were working overtime, stressed out, you called him over for assistance, and like last time, you could see the way he looked at you, but this time, it was with a hint of lust. Was he pent up for his eyes to emit such a lustful gaze? You noticed these things, yet you chose to ignore them. You wanted to see how far this would go, and how long it would take for him to snap. After all, he was your type, and it wouldn't hurt to have a taste of him.

Time passes by, and everything went quite.. normal. Until one day, you were working overtime once again. Along with some other employees, and of course blade. "Blade?" You called his name out, but there was no response. You decided to come out of your office and search down the halls, finding the missing man. After minutes of searching, you spot him entering a room at the other side of the building. 'What the hell is he doing there?' You wondered while walking.

As you finally reached your destination, You slowly opened the door. "Blade, What are you– !?" To your suprise, you found the man inside the room with his hands stroking the growing bulge inside his pants, Throwing his head back, and leaning it against the wall before letting out a moan that sounded oh so sinful. "Y-Y/N.." Your eyes widened as he moaned out your name. You stared at him, he looked so.. so ravishing.  As you fully open the door, not even seconds later he notices you, and his eyes widened.

"Y/N–" He was thinking of possible excuses, However he was at a loss for words. "I heard you calling my name, Do you perhaps require some assistance?" You asked him teasingly, humming as your eyes travelled from his face–to his erection. 'Fuck.' Blade thought to himself, embarassed to the point he couldn't bring himself to look you in the eye. "No answer?" You stared at him. "What kind of answer do you want?" he asked with a firm voice, despite the embarassment evident on his red face. "Oh, Don't try to hide it blade~ You've always wanted me." He became an even darker tint of red. You already knew about how much he desired you. He’s done for.. You went closer to him, invading his personal space. "Push me away, if you don't want this." You said before leaning in for a kiss.

"What- mm .." 

He kissed you back. 

He didn't want to push you away, as felt teeth carefully biting his lower lip. You licked his lips as you pulled away from the kiss, opening your eyes and grabbing his hard cock. His eyes widened. "Poor little thing hasn't been given any attention huh~.. Don't worry, darling. I'll give it the attention it needs." You cooed against his ear, Turning him on even more. "F-Fuck– ..Y/N.." He groaned as you kneeled down. Taking his cock in your hands, and stroking it gently. "Mngh.." He groaned as you licked the tip of his shaft, tasting his pre-cum. Continuing to stroke it up and down.  

"Mm~" You hummed, Feeling the vibrations of your voice made him shiver.

"Inside.. mouth..."

"Oh? How naughty~" You laughed. Blade let out a shaky whimper as you took him deep inside your mouth, continuing to suck and lick him. Closing his eyes to focus on the feeling. As blade grabbed a handful of your hair, You started moving your head up and down, hands stroking the rest of blade’s length. A moan escapes blade's mouth, As you quickly and roughly slide your mouth up and down his length. Blade let out a low growl, You could feel his cock twitching, indicating that he was close. You took the whole thing inside your mouth as he let out his heavy loud inside you. His cum trickling down your throat. "You taste delectable, darling~" You stood up, before whispering in his ear. He stared at you, panting with half-lidded eyes. "Now.. let's get to the main event, shall we~? Take your clothes off." You commanded, before taking your clothes off as well, both of you tossing your clothes on the cold ground. He stared at your bare body in awe, hardly able to contain himself. "Oh my, Hard again?" You said teasingly. Making the him look at his own erection, embarassingly. 

"Fuck off.." he muttered.

 "How cold~" You cooed as you led him to sit on one of the chairs, and stood infront of him. "Now, Just sit down, and let me pleasure you~" His breath catched in his throat as he felt you slowly lowering yourself down his length. "H-holy shit–!" Blade groaned, his grip tightening at your waist. 

"Mmm.. fuck blade! " You cursed as you felt your hole getting stretched along with his tip prodding at the spot that made you melt. Grabbing his shoulders for support, you slowly let yourself go down his whole length, taking him all in.

 "Blade~" 

He squirmed at the way his name escaped your lips. 

"Y/N–! Fuck.. S-so tight..You're gonna be the death of me."  You started to raise your hips up and down his length, with slow yet provocative movements, making the man see stars. His grip on your waist tightened.  You rocked your hips back and forth, your pace getting faster and faster, as blade's breath got hotter and heavier. He felt himself growing even harder inside you. The lewd sound of skin slapping against skin made both of you feel even more aroused. "Mmh! Y/N– F-faster! " He moaned loudly, His cries echoing throughout the room. Your eyes gleamed with a mixture of excitement and arousalHis hips started to sway the same rhythm as yours. "Tell me blade, Tell me how much you want me." You whispered.

 "I want you.. I want you I want you I want you– I fucking want every single part of you– Fuck! " He moaned. Your smirk turned into a devious grin as you rode him faster than ever, grinding your hips roughly against his. 

"Shit.. shit shit shit, holy fuck–! " he tossed his head back in pleasure. He was close, so fucking close, and he knew you were close too. "So good for me, blade~ mngh! Good boy, such a good boy..!" You praised and moaned against his ear. Your pace became more rhythmic and forceful.

 "Cum with me. Cum with me, baby~" you moaned in his ear, you could feel him twitching uncontrollably deep inside you. You lean in to kiss him deeply as you both came, filling you to the brim with his thick load.

"So, so pretty blade.." You panted, cupping his chin with your hand, before Blade kissed you once more. "Mmm~ So needy." You whispered gently as he pulled away, giving him a kiss on the forehead lovingly. "I love you, Y/N." He said before he fell asleep with his length remaining deep inside you.

[swcowgal]

Wild rags I think each clone would wear : a clone cowboy au : part 1

For those of you who don’t know, a wild rag is a silk scarf worn by cowboys or cowgirls to stay warm. Its a lot like a bandana but much larger😌

Starting off with Captain Rex,

He would wear something classy and something blue

Commander Cody

He would pick something simple. He wouldn’t worry too much about the pattern he would just want it to get the job done but pinstripes are classy and very much in

Arc Trooper Fives

I can see fives finding the most badass prints. He would also be the cowboy who would wear thrift store shirts from the 80s

Literal space cowboy

Arc Trooper Echo

He would pick something fun but simple. This would be perfect for Echo

[violetswritingg]

Main Masterlist

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Imagines

Coming soon!

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Series

Twisters

Thunderstruck

Tyler Owens x OFC!

Description: When cowgirl meets cowboy after a year of no-contact and chaos ensues during storm season!

Rating: M (Mentions of blood and death in Tornadoes and storms alike, angst and loss of loved ones, car accidents, Tornado aftermath, and injury to characters, slight age gap (5 years))

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 17 (Coming soon)

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Young Justice

Canary Cry

Robin/Nightwing (Dick Grayson) x OFC!

Description: Her violence was silent. Until it wasn't.

"I'm fine."

"Fine is just another word for drowning."

Rating T-M (mentions of blood, child abuse, mental health, cannon situations of violence and the like. Loss of parents, hard of hearing/deaf character, poorly written fight scenes lol)

Act-One

0: Creation

1: He Left

2: Birthday's and Nightmares

3: Drop-Zone A

4: Drop-Zone B

5: Disappointment

6: School'd

7: Trash Go Boom

8: Home

9: Infiltrator

10: Outfiltrated

11: Truces and Text messages

12: Denial

13: Downtime

Act two

14: Bereft

15: Mortal Wounds

16: Home Invasion

17: Alpha Male pt.1

18: Alpha Male pt.2

19: Plant Subterfuge

20: Revelation

21: To be determined

22: To be determined

23: To be determined

24: To be determined

25: To be determined

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Titans

Only in Darkness

Jason Todd x OFC!

Description:

"Only in Darkness can you see the stars."

Or

Marlowe Knight stumbling upon a girl prophesied to end the world and going on the adventure of a life time.

Rating: M (Blood, cannon typical violence, sibling rivalry, scars, torture, trauma, angsttttt)

0.5

1: A New Chapter

2: Crime Scenes and Cafés

3: Dodged Calls

4: Cop Killer

5: To The Rescue

6: Blueberry Pancakes and Rooftop Memories

7: Phone Calls

8: Panic and Motel Conversations

9: Old Friends

10: Second Chances

11: Leaving

12: Nuclear Family Drama

13: On Edge

14: Different Places

15: On The Move

16: Training Season

17: Seriously? These Guys Again?

18: Chicago, She-cago

19: The Three Musketeers

20: TBD

21: TBD

22: TBD

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Peacemaker

Stargazer

Adrian Chase x OFC!

Description:

Back in 1939 the Court of Owls set out to create the first Talon, they called this initiative the Ghost protocol. Their product? everything they ever wanted in a solider for their nefarious schemes to keep their power over Gotham City.

Roberta Harris, Bobbie if you don't want to get shot somewhere important, never wanted this life. A 'criminal' to the world and a legend in the world of spy shit and black ops project's. The bomb in her head keeps her compliant with Waller's demands until Project Starfish wins her her freedom. What will she do now?

Or

A world in which an elderly lady moves to a small town in Washington state to get away from the superhero bullshit only to get pulled back in against her will. Growing along the way as a result.

Rating: M (For obvious reasons, it's Peacemaker)

1: Freedom

2: TBD

3: TBD

4: TBD

5: TBD

6: TBD

7: TBD

8: TBD

9: TBD

10: TBD

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Invincible

Valkyrie

Mark Grayson x OFC!

Description: In which two superpowered teens meet and fall in love amongst blood, death, and betrayal

Rating: M (Canon typical violence, betrayal, mental health issues, abandonment issues, child neglect, angsttttt)

Too Good To Be True

Carnage

Aftermath

Attacked From All Sides

Outer space

Nightmare

Burial Plot

Compromise

Shit Show

Shit Show pt.2

TBD

TBD

TBD

TBD

TBD

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More coming soon!

[strawhbrrries]

Hell on Heels.

pairing: rhett abbott x tillerson!afab!reader

summary: you made the devil a deal; he made you pretty, he made you smart and rhett abbott she’s coming after you.

warnings: everyone calls reader ‘honey’, sweet rhett, the tillersons (they need their own warning tbh but i love a good forbidden romance), mutual pining (sorta), unprotected p in v, car sex, a wee bit of fingering, creampie, let me know if i forgot anything, no use of y/n or description of reader, not proofread 

word count: 4.4k words

author’s note: i love rhett abbott and i think this rivals the cowgirl series as one of the best things i’ve ever written. I’m just a sucker for a white man in a cowboy hat. honey is ENTIRELY inspired by the pistol annies so channel them when you read them. I’ve been hyping this up to @thesirenrealm all night so i’m saying my prayers that it lives up! as always, please enjoy!!! mwah!!!!

read the next part here!

“The rodeo ain’t ‘till later tonight.” 

His voice was warm, wrapping you up in a thick blanket and protecting you from the world. A false sense of security, your brother’s had tried to scare you with some bullshit about not trusting the Abbott boys. As if your family was any better. 

“Stalkin’ me, Abbott?” You turned around to face him, the railing of the arena leaving indents on the undersides of your arms, the corners of your lips turning into a smile.

“Luke know you’re out here?” He looked around, almost like he was expecting your brother to pop out of the shadows somewhere and give him shit for even speaking to you, avoiding your question.

“No, and I’m an adult. I can do what I want.” You huffed, annoyed everyone saw you as an extension of your older brother. Even more so that Rhett did, you’d tried so hard to stand out to him.

“He doesn’t see it that way. Why’re you out here?” He inquired, leaning against the railing next to you, squinting his eyes as the sun found its way under his hat

“Space,” you looked over at him, “ I assume that’s why you’re out here?”

“Bingo.” He looked over at you, holding eye contact until you broke it and looked back into the arena in front of you. “Why don’t you leave the ranch if you want space so much, Honey? You’re out here more days than you’re at your own home.”

His observation was a slight stab in the guts, only because he was right. You loved your family, truly, as best as you could while keeping yourself sane. Luke wanted to control everyone and everything, including you and what you did. You were half surprised he hadn’t implanted a tracker underneath your skin, in your car, or downloaded one on your phone. In some ways it could be written off as well meaning, he just wanted to make sure his people were okay. He was just crazy, you knew it. Billy, he was a sweet thing, just never knew when to shut the fuck up. Your dad had gone off his rocker long ago, probably forget he had a daughter due to your absence around the house. 

“And where do you suggest I go, Abbott?” You scoffed at his suggestion, your family might’ve had some money but you’d never seen any of it. Buying a house or renting was out of the question. 

“Quit callin’ me that.” He scoffed right back at you, his eyes never leaving you.

“Fine, Rhett. Answer the question.” 

“I’ve offered multiple times, Honey. It still stands now.” His tone was softer now, more serious. 

You’d ignored him, walked away and got into your car, drove all the way to your house. You wanted to contemplate his offer, wanted to take him up on it but you’d just be intruding on his family’s space. You’d rather act like you only slept at your house before you became a burden to another family. Your phone lit up three times with Rhett’s name on your drive home, probably telling you to think of the offer or maybe asking if you were gonna see him ride later. 

He’d been shocked when you walked away, didn’t say a single thing or make any indication he’d done anything wrong. He was right, he’d offered you a place multiple times before, when he pointed it out he didn’t think he was going to upset you. He knew all about the loyalty you had for your family but he also knew the type of crazy Luke and Wayne were. Some days he wondered if you were ever truly related to them, sweet ol’ Honey. Your sweet demeanor earned you the nickname, you’d had it for years. It could be your real name and you’d know no different.

“Honey. Honey. Honey what the fuck.” Luke was yelling the second you walked in the door, it made you want to turn around. Pick up your phone. Tell Rhett you’d accepted his offer and was on your way.

“Luke, shut the fuck up.” Is all you had to say to him as you walked right past him and into your room, slamming the wooden doors as loud as you could. 

Luke had yelled something in response, you couldn’t give a singular shit about whatever that man child wanted. You balled your fists, shaking them at your door quietly as he continued yelling. All you wanted was some peace and quiet. That’s why you spent so much time down at the showing arena during the day time, nobody else was there. It was deserted. Just you and your thoughts. Apparently also Rhett, not that you minded. You liked Rhett, a lot. He was just the right amount of rugged to contrast the delicate world built around you from being the only daughter. Just the right amount of mean to contrast your sweetness.

Your phone vibrated from its spot in your back pocket, you pulled it out and looked at the name at the top of your screen. Rhett Abbott.

“Honey.”

His voice was soft, just as soft as it had been at the arena, not a hint of annoyance with you. You appreciated that he wasn’t making you feel bad for leaving him hanging, appreciated that the guilt you were feeling wasn’t because of his words. 

“Hey, Rhett. I'm sorry for leavin’ like that I-”

“It’s fine, I shouldn’t have overstepped like that. I just need to know if you’re comin’ to watch my ride.” 

You should’ve given it to him for cutting you off like that, but your sweet heart had a Rhett Abbott shaped soft spot and always had. You listened to him talk like he was preaching the Sunday sermon, like whatever he was telling you would save your life.

“Yeah..yeah I’m comin’.” You flopped back on your bed, imagining where he was and what he was doing. Were his thoughts filled with you? Like yours were of him.

“Good.” 

He hung up and filled you with disappointment, you knew he had to get ready to ride but it didn’t make you any less upset he didn’t have the courtesy to say bye. 

“Bye, Rhett.” You whispered into the air, laying your phone down next to you, staring up at the angled ceiling as your thoughts became overrun with what you’d wear. 

You loved being a girl; loved dressing up and looking pretty, loved the (wanted) attention you got from it, loved the solidarity you got from most other women. Tonight was no exception, the rodeo was your favorite excuse to wear the jeans that hugged your ass in all the right places and the bra that put the girls in the right place to get what you wanted when you wanted it. You didn’t need to dress up to impress anyone, you knew that but god if you didn’t love it. Touching up your hair and makeup was the last thing you did before shoving your phone in your back pocket, walking past whatever screaming fest your brother had found himself in now, and hauling ass to the rodeo. Sometimes, life wasn’t so bad.

“Honey! Over here!” 

Your head snaps to the group of girls calling for your attention, a huge smile immediately lighting up your face as you walked over to join the group. You gave all the girls a hug and a kiss on the cheek before settling in a spot, you hoped Rhett could easily see you in. If it wasn’t your whooping and hollering that would get his attention, it was the cowboy hat he gifted you years ago matched with bright red lipstick. You were sex personified. Hell on Heels. 

He’d spotted you the second you’d walked into the place, watched your hair bounce as you walked and watched the smile that stood proudly every time someone spoke to you. Watched your ass jiggle in the jeans you always wore when you dressed up, he hated them simply because he knew every man you encountered watched you saunter away the same way he did. The cat calling the kettle black. Rhett was many things but he was a dirty hungry man, hungry for all the things Honey Tillerson could offer. He watched you sit with a group of girls he didn’t know, nor did he give a single shit about, and try to get a glimpse of him. Unfortunately, he’d placed himself out of sight. He wanted to admire you from afar without being caught, boy was he glad he did when you started searching for him.

“Here for prince charming Abbott?” One of the girls teased, trying to get a rise out of you.

“Obviously, I don’t support anyone else as fiercely as I do for a man who isn’t mine.” You shot back, rolling your eyes playfully before breaking into giggles to let them know it wasn’t as serious as you’d pretended.

“All I’m sayin’ is, I’d never wait for a man who can’t commit.” You don’t know shit.

“Agreed, I mean I’m sure any Abbott boy is a catch but girl you’ve been pining after this man since grade school!”

You knew the girls were well meaning, just wanting you to go after a man who wanted you more than you wanted him. You’d die lonely before you settled for someone who wasn’t him, it didn’t matter if it took you a hundred years to get him to see you the way you saw him. He already did, you were just oblivious and put it off as some sort of kindness he gave to everyone. Rhett wasn’t the kind man to everyone like he was to you, he couldn’t give a shit if anyone had a place to stay trying to escape their crazy family, but he gave multiple for you. 

“Ash you can’t even talk, your man can’t keep it in his pants. Leave mine alone.” You snapped, feigning niceness despite the venom of your words, tilting your head to the side daring any of the girls to try you one more time. Your sweetness only ran so far before it ran out, they were running it thin.

“God if I was a man, Honey, I’d be knocking down your dad’s door beggin’ him to let me marry you. Scratch that, I’d pay him to let me do it! If anyone supported me like you support Rhett, it’d be a miracle I wasn’t knee deep in kids.” The girl next to you spoke, laying her head on your shoulder as she did so. It felt nice for your support to be noticed by someone. 

“I’ll be next in line in case he turns her down!” 

The girls continued talking about how they’d love to marry you in another life up until the announcer came on to start up the rodeo. The rodeo on a summer night was your favorite place to be. Between the screams of everyone in town coming out to support someone they knew and the lights of the stadium, it filled you with warmth. You only half paid attention to all the bull riders before Rhett, wishing them good luck but not enough that they’d beat your man.

“Everyone stand and welcome our hometown hero! Rhett Abbott!”

You were the first to your feet, yelling louder than you were the last time, making sure he’d see you before his run. He’d whispered to you one night after a run, sneaked to your house to see you and thank you for coming to watch him, that you were his good luck charm. That he searched for you everytime he was getting ready to ride, it was a drunken confession but a true one nonetheless. Ever since that night you made sure he saw you, that he knew his good luck charm was there. Your voice rivaled his parent’s in loudness, depending on the night it was louder.

You held your breath through his entire ride, always scared to death he’d fall and get trampled by whatever bull he was riding that night. He never did. Always came out on top. He was the hometown hero, after all.

“Rhett!” You called after him, running up to him as he exited the ‘Rider’s Only’ area. 

“Honey.” He smiled, scooping you up and twirling you around. It was the most affection he’d shown you, sober.

“Mr. Hometown Hero. Always winnin’, huh?” You teased, matching his smile as you looked down at him. Aware of the fact that he was almost entirely supporting you with one arm, your core just getting a tinge warm at the thought.

“Always, when I got my good luck charm here,” he nipped at your exposed collarbone, “God you are one gorgeous woman. Don’t know how the guys in the stand didn’t maul you before your pretty ass got here.”

“Oh hush, don’t care about ‘em anyway.” You placed a kiss on his cheek, waiting for him to cross the physical boundary of kissing.

He’d been close to it only twice before, once on your birthday and the other on the same night he’d first called you his good luck charm. Both times he’d been interrupted by a knock on a door and the holler of your name.

Your birthday is one you almost kiss you think back on frequently. You’d managed to ditch your family and friends for a few hours, sitting in the passenger seat of Rhett’s truck as he drove you back to your place. You invited him in, no one was home so there wasn’t anyone to tiptoe around. Showed him your room and locked the door. He laid down on your bed, moving onto his side so he could look at you as you laid down.

“Pretty lil thing.” He whispered, tracing a finger from the start of your forehead to the tip of your chin. He used that same finger to get you to look at him. 

The two of you laid there, staring at each other, for a few moments. Admiring the other person. If the rest of your birthday had gone horribly wrong, laying here with him made it all better. 

“Can I kiss you, Honey?” He asked, already running his thumb over your bottom lip. 

“Please, Rhett.” You whined, it was airy and desperate. 

He leaned in, keeping his finger on your chin and pointed towards him, his lips ghosting yours. There wasn’t a centimeter of space between the two of you, 

“Honey? Are you in there? Rhett Abbott’s truck is in the driveway.” It was Billy, the better of your brothers to have been home first. 

“Yeah I'm here! He brought me back and was making sure I was okay!” You scrunched your face in annoyance, pushing Rhett off of you and trying to hurry him out of your room before anyone else arrived home. 

The night he called you his lucky charm was also the night you think you realized that you loved Rhett Abbott, like truly loved him. He’d had his best ride of all season, gotten dragged out to go drink with the other riders when he’d rather celebrate with you. 

You’d gone home slightly disappointed, you understood the other guys wanting to celebrate with him but you also wanted to see him. You weren’t greeted when you got home, not that you cared, but it only added to your disappointment that the people who were supposed to care about you didn’t. Your phone had found its way in the middle of your bed, being left there while you took a shower in some attempt to scrub away the disappointment. When you got dressed and finally picked it back up it read,

3 missed calls from Rhett Abbott

Your face fell, how could you miss these? You clicked on the notification and waited anxiously as it rang, nervous he wouldn’t pick up. 

“Hey, baby.” His voice was loud, he was yelling over whatever commotion was going on in the back. Baby was new. 

“You called?” Your voice barely above a whisper, gnawing on the end of one of your acrylic nails as you awaited his answer. 

“Wanna come see you, see my girl.” His girl.

“My family’s here, you can’t.” Despite the thick walls providing a lot of sound proofing, you couldn’t help but whisper in fear that one of them had a cup to the door listening to your every word.

“I’ll park at the end of the driveway, walk around to your window. Please?” 

“Just…be careful, please.” You smiled softly at the reflection of yourself on the screen, excited you’d be able to see him tonight. 

What felt like forever went by before you heard a soft knock on your window. You unlocked it and pushed them open, leaning over the sill to look at him. 

“Rebellious rebellious Honey Tillerson, what ever will we do with you.” Rhett joked, putting his hands up on the window to hold yours.

“Congrats, Rhett. You did amazing tonight.” You took his hands in yours and smiled down at him, although you could barely see him in the dark. 

“Cause I had you, had my lucky charm, my girl.” His girl. 

Your smile at that moment could’ve lit up the whole sky, the brightest thing he’d ever seen. If he hadn’t forgotten his phone in his truck he would’ve snapped a picture of you, probably would’ve fucked his hand to it later.

“I’ll be there, every time.” You leaned down just as he leaned up, hopeful it’d finally be the moment you’d kiss. You’d be lying if it wasn’t something you dreamed about constantly since your birthday. Your lips were once again, centimeters from each other when a fucking knock on your door rang out. 

“Honey. Do you know where any of dad’s meds are?” Luke’s voice instantly filling you with rage, didn’t anyone in this house have anything to do when Rhett was trying to kiss you.

“No, I’ll help you look.” You yelled back, giving Rhett an apologetic look before closing your window and walking away to go help your incompetent brother.

Now here you were, in Rhett’s arms, inches away from his face. You felt like your heart was beating out of your chest, that he was gonna feel the excitement and the nervousness spilling out of you. And yet, he didn’t kiss you. He didn’t lean in or pull your face to his. He set you down, he put your feet back onto the ground.

“C’mon, I’m not kissin’ you here.” He read the disappointment written all over your face, grabbed your hand and brought you to his truck. “Because the last thing I need is someone trying to get your attention when it should be on me.”

“And your truck is that much more private?”

“It drives and the doors lock, your family seems to always need you when I do, I’d say it’s a bit more private.” He responded, opening the passenger side door for you and closing it once you got inside.

He got in the drivers side and closed the door, locking the truck and taking a deep breath before he turned to you. 

“Honey, I am going to kiss you. If anyone fuckin’ interrupts me I will become a murderer.” He placed his hand on your cheek, leaned in and placed his lips on yours.

You placed a hand on top of his, just reminding yourself that Rhett Abbott was actually kissing you. He leaned in further, deepening the kiss a bit to test the waters as this was the first kiss the two of you shared together. He swiped his tongue over your lower lip, a small whine escaping the back of your throat causing him to chuckle against your lips. 

“C’mere, pretty girl.” He helped you over the console in the middle and into his lap, his hands caressing your sides before finding their way to your ass. Giving it a nice squeeze, he’d thought about this every damn time you wore these jeans.

“Rhett.” You whined, leaning into him for support. Not because you couldn’t hold yourself up, you simply wanted to feel his hands on you and the strength he displayed earlier when he picked you up.

“What, baby? What? You gotta use your words, you know that.” He whispered, placing open mouth kisses along your neck.

“Need you..”

“Need me to what? Words, Honey, words.” He sucked and nipped at one spot directly under your collarbone, he knew it’d start some shit in the future but at this current moment he had you all to himself. He’d rather be a dead man than not mark you as his, hell he’d fucking carve it into your skin if you’d let him. He’d ask you about it later.

“Need you to fuck me..” You whispered, your skin turning pink at the confession and the lewdness of it all. Rhett wouldn’t be your first, you’d drunkenly hooked up with men before but it was a different kind of need to finally have sex with someone you’d been pining after.

“Was that so hard? I can do that for you. Take real good care of ya. Fuck you six ways to Sunday.” His words turning you an even pinker shade, you didn’t know he could say such dirty things but god if it wasn’t the hottest thing anyone had ever said to you.

Both of your hats were thrown into the back seat as it became a race of who could get their jeans off the fastest, you’d win by a few seconds as your mobility wasn’t limited because of someone else sitting on top of you. Your jeans would soon join the hats in the back, tossed loosely back there to just get them out of the damn way. Sure it would’ve been easier to just fuck back there but the small cramped space of the drivers seat was spurring the both of you in a way you hadn’t before that it didn’t matter where you fucked. You just needed to fuck. Now.

“Been thinkin’ ‘bout this. ‘Bout you.” He confessed, combing his fingers through your hair before smashing your lips back together, giving you no time to think.

Kissing Rhett was nasty, messy, and you loved it. His mouth was on yours, making up for all the times he tried to but hadn’t been successful in kissing you. His hands were roaming your body, caressing the newly naked ass presented to him. He felt like he was fifteen years old ago, seeing a naked body and losing his mind. But he wasn’t fifteen and you weren’t naked, he was losing his mind at the thought of getting you naked. It’d have to wait because he’d become a murderer if anyone else saw you naked from this point on. 

“Thought about you too. Your fingers and how they’d feel inside me, probably so much bigger than mine.” You confessed, taking breaths in between your words, staring at Rhett as he processed what you just told him.

“You are the hottest woman I have ever met, goddamnit Honey.” He groaned in response, sliding your panties to the slide and playing with your clit. “I’m gonna finger you for a second, just stretch you a bit and then I’m gonna fuck you. Okay?”

You shook your head yes and leaned your head against his shoulder as his middle finger slid inside of you. He twisted it occasionally, adding a bit of fun but never letting your orgasm build up. He wanted you to cum on his cock and not a moment before. He slowly added his ring finger to the mix, fucking into you slowly enough to stretch you and be not enough to get off. You wanted to cry when he removed his fingers, no longer feeling the fullness of his fingers, but it wasn’t long before it was replaced with the tip of his cock.

“How bad do you want it?” He teased, pushing just the head in and pulling it back out. Making sure to never let more than his head go inside of you.

“Rhett please, need it. Need your cock, need you to fuck me..” You cried out into his shoulder, gasping loudly when he pushed the whole thing inside of you. “Holy fuckin’ shit..”

He chuckled at your response and kissed the top of your head, waiting just a few moments before he pulled all the way out and pushed himself all the way back inside of you. 

“This pussy was fuckin’ made for me.” He grunted into your ear, slowly starting to move just a little bit faster. “Whose pussy is this?”

“Yours Rhett, shit, yours..”

He seemed satisfy with your answer and braced himself with one hand on the console and the over wrapped around you, fucking up into you like he wasn’t gonna see you again and this was your last night together. His thrusts were hard and deep, you’d felt a fullness you didn’t even know was possible until now, fast and rough. His soft grunts and groans were like music to your ears, adding to the warmth that was slowly building in your belly. The knot was slowly coming together and it was all the doing of Rhett Abbott.

“Shoulda done this ages ago, made you mine, made sure no one else touched you.” He rambled, words spilling out of his mouth at a speed you’d never heard him speak at. “Fuck, gonna make you Mrs. Rhett Abbott, shit baby, this cunt is so fuckin’ warm.”

“Gonna cum, Rhett I’m gonna cum..fuck fuck fuck…” 

“I’m right behind you, baby.”

He quickly brought his hand down to your clit and pushed you over the edge he had you teetering on. Your orgasm milked the orgasm out of him as he fucked you through it, making sure not to change his motions until you moved his hand away from overstimulation. The windows had long fogged up, only lines from your hair moving against them were left unfogged. He relaxed completely in the seat, breathing deeply in an attempt to catch his breath. 

“Holy shit, Honey. Fuckin’ Hell on Heels.”

[starlitangels]

One Last Show?

... More Rockstar AU. In the same universe as "Last Night of Tour" but now with the other band ;-) Please welcome Milo and the Wolves to the stage! 5.5k words this was not meant to be this long omg

@palilious and @zozo-01... figured you two would like to be informed that I finished this one ;-)

—

Sweetheart

Milo shoved open the hotel room door and stormed inside. Me hot on his heels. “I am not your parents, Mr. Greer. You hired me for your safety, remember?” I snapped the second the door closed.

Milo scoffed. “And you’re good at what you do—but I’m gettin’ a little sick-a you breathin’ down my neck day in and day out!” His retort fired off his tongue fast, like he knew what I was going to say.

“Look. I’m not here to judge you, okay? If you wanna go out and party, then go out and party. If you’re sick of the rest of the band and want to sneak out to party without them—fine. But you take me with you. I’m not gonna judge you for sneaking out. I’m just here to make sure you’re protected. That’s why I’m the one carrying the gun. So if you’re sneaking out, then dammit I better be right by your side next time. I don’t care about the why or whatever. I’m just trying to do my job. And you make it pretty damn difficult when you go behind even my back, understand?” As I spoke, I pushed myself into his personal space and glared him right in the eye. But didn’t touch. Never touch unless it was absolutely necessary.

Milo bared his teeth at me and looked like he was literally going to pounce down my throat. Insufferable spoiled rockstar who always got whatever he wanted and—

He slouched. “Fine, sweetheart,” he bit out with a pissed off snap in his voice. “Next time, you’re comin’ with.”

I leaned a little closer. “Good.” With that, I whipped around and stomped back to the door, yanking it open. “Goodnight, Mr. Greer.”

He waved me off dismissively. I pulled it shut firmly behind me, but didn’t slam it.

Out in the empty hallway, identical to every other hallway, I closed my eyes for a moment. Trying to calm myself down. I rubbed my eyes and went to my hotel room on the other side of the wall from Milo’s.

“You look frustrated,” my roommate, the band’s manager and the lead guitarist’s partner, remarked. “You find him?”

I inhaled deeply through my nose and sighed out of it. “I found him.”

They smirked. “Did you have to ping the GPS in his phone with your hacker whiz skills?”

I rolled my eyes. “No. Thankfully.”

“Do I want to know where he was?”

I blinked several times. “No.” I turned toward the bathroom. “I’m gonna shower and go to bed. I had to chase that moron halfway across Kennedy and I'm exhausted. Next thing I know I’m going to be hunting him down while he’s getting frisky with a cowgirl or cowboy or someone in Mont Blanc. And if I do, I might actually lose my mind.”

Asher's partner crossed their legs on their bed when I paused in the bathroom doorway. "You ever wonder if he's acting out like this to get your attention?"

I stared at them for a moment. "Wh... why the hell would he do that?"

They shrugged. "I don't know. Because you're hot?" they suggested. I scoffed. "I'm serious! You're attractive and I've seen him sneaking glances at you when you're not looking and he thinks no one else is!" They sat forward on their bed.

"That's not why he's sneaking out. He does this at least once a tour because he gets sick of the band."

"And he always does it in Kennedy."

I shook my head. "Nope. Last time we were in Borden. The time before we were in Mont Blanc. He's only done it in Kennedy once before."

"You've paid that much attention?"

"Had to. It's my job," I said. I ducked into the bathroom. "See ya in a bit."

"Or not! I might spend the night in Asher's room."

"Okay." I shut the bathroom door behind me and yanked off my jacket to reveal my gun holster. After unbuckling that, I stripped everything else off and got in the shower.

—

Baaabe

I knocked on Asher's door with the same knock we always used to signal one of us was there. A pattern Asher had come up with that had taken me about seven tries to actually get right.

Barely three seconds later, the door opened. "Baaabe!" Asher whispered, beaming broadly and ushering me into his room without a moment's hesitation. I fell immediately into his arms and let him kick the door closed as he tucked me into his arms.

We took whatever time we could while on tour to be alone together. It was rare. Most of the time, at least one member of the band or crew was within at least earshot. If not direct line of sight. Most nights everyone slept on the tour bus as it drove to the next city. Not the most comfortable of beds or the best of sleep. Where Milo found the energy to kept engaging the audiences at every performance, I still had no clue. I wasn't the one on stage every night and tours left me absolutely wiped. How the band did it... I didn't know.

Well, except Ash. I knew where he found the energy. He'd been a coffee addict since before the band became famous enough to do tours. According to David—who had known Asher since they were pretty much born—Asher had been stuck on coffee since he was sixteen.

"Did they find Milo?" Asher asked as he tugged me toward his bed. It was a rare night on tour when we got to be alone in a hotel, and we were going to make the most of it.

"Of course they did. Milo could disappear to the bottom of the Bermuda Triangle and they'd still be able to drag his short ass back."

Asher's muscles relaxed under my fingers. "Thank God," he breathed. "Now we get to have fun without the anxiety of that looming over our heads."

I snorted. "As if you were ever actually worried." I tilted up onto my tiptoes—Asher was so tall—and puckered my lips just a little.

He bent down immediately and met them in a kiss, one hand cradling where the back of my head met my neck. Quickly the kiss turned hot and heavy, Asher digging his fingers into my body to keep me close. I felt him bump his legs against the bed.

Before he could react, I pushed him down onto it.

"Whoa—whoa!" He hit the mattress, shaggy warm black curls splaying out over the white duvet with his head thrown back in a smile. "Mmm. Miss me, babe?" he teased.

"What are you talking about? I see you every day."

A lazy, playful smirk bloomed on Asher's stupidly handsome face, white teeth stark and glittering against his bronze skin. "Well sure. But not alone. Not—" He bucked up at the hips and caught mine, dragging me down onto the bed on top of him. "Not private." He kissed me. Sloppy and heavy. "Not like this—with no chance of David or Milo turning the corner and finding us. For the first time in weeks, it's just you and me. All alone. No where to run. Nowhere to hide. No one trying to find us." He pulled back enough to wink. I snickered—

And planted a hand on his chest, pushing him down into the bed and away from me. "Are you gonna behave, Talbot? Or am I going to make you behave?"

A wild gleam flickered to life in his eyes. I felt his breathing speed up under my fingers. "I don't know, babe," he said breathlessly. "I might be feeling a little naughty."

I raised a brow. "We'll see how long that lasts."

I trailed my hand on his chest down his torso, lifting all but one finger to trace the line between his abdomen muscles. His eyes rolled back and his eyelids fluttered.

I paused with my fingertip low on his torso, just above the waistband of his pajama trousers slung low on his hips. "May I slide these off?"

Asher nodded. Fervently.

I didn't move. "Both?"

Another nod.

My other hand rested on his hips. "Use your words, Asher."

"Yes—God—please, babe."

I smirked and hooked all my fingers around the waistband of his pajamas and underwear. "Ready for a long night?"

"I've been dreaming of it," Asher said.

—

Angel

"I miss Tank," Asher remarked, leaning back on the folding chair he'd dragged onto the stage while we were all prepping for tonight's concert.

"We all do," David said softly, setting a hand on my mid-back to edge around me from behind with a case for part of his drum-set in his other hand. "But they made their choice to leave the band behind and we're going to respect that."

"Well duh," Asher retorted. "But, like, remember their energy? I miss the chaos."

"I don't," his partner—the band's manager—muttered. "Do you know how many fires of theirs I had to put out? I love them but they're a troublemaker."

"Besides," Milo threw in, a cord for something wrapped around his arm, "I thought you liked bein' lead guitar now."

Asher opened his mouth, thought for a moment, then closed it. Milo burst out laughing.

I drifted over to where David was setting up his drum set and sat on his usual stool. "Nervous for tonight?"

He glanced up at me, spinning something into place. "Not particularly. All things considered, I have the easy part."

I scoffed. "You do not."

"I keep the rhythm. It's not like I have notes to worry about."

"You have the hard job. You're the foundation of the whole song. Keeping the rhythm can be hard—and also your instrument has more parts than all the others. Except maybe the keyboard. And you have to remember which drum and which symbol to hit when. I think that's a lot to keep track of."

David almost cracked a smile. "Well, one of us is a musician, and one isn't. I think one of us is more qualified to speak on the difficulty of my part in the band than the other."

I rolled my eyes. "Maybe. But you have a habit of undercutting for the sake of humility and it's boring." I spun around on his swivel stool while he rolled his eyes and pulled one of his snare drums out of its case.

My phone buzzed in my pocket.

Curious—since I rarely got notifications right before a concert even as the PR manager—I pulled it out.

Tank: How was the Kennedy show last night?

I smiled. "Hey! Speak of the devil," I said.

David looked up from where he was setting up the snare's stand. "Tank?"

I nodded. "Asking how last night's show went in Kennedy." I was already texting them back.

Me: It went really well! There were very few technical issues (apart from Milo's mic having a funky connection during testing but we got that fixed) and I thought it was a great success. Got a lot of pictures for promo stuff.

David nudged me off of his stool and sat on it himself so he could put a cymbal stand together. I just stood there, watching the bubble of Tank's reply appear with the dots that showed they were typing.

Tank: Sounds great! You should check out the replay of the Dahlia concert of House of Solaire that they did last night. Right after intermission ;-)

Me: Am I going to find shenanigans?

Tank: Mild shenanigans maybe. Nothing illegal. Nothing certain members of MatW didn't already agree to.

They sent a quick follow up text with a YouTube link to The House of Solaire's verified YouTube channel. A specific video on said channel.

I paged through it quickly. Someone had marked "chapters" in the video of each individual song.

Until I found one that was most definitely not a House of Solaire song.

Scrunching my eyebrows, I put a Bluetooth headphone in and started the video from there.

My jaw dropped.

I disconnected my headphone and sat in David's lap, starting the song over. He made a grunt of protest before he realized what I was doing, and watched House of Solaire perform "Tougher than You"—with Tank. On stage.

A wistful, nostalgic look crossed the tilt of David's eyebrows and angle of his mouth before quickly vanishing. "Some things don't change," he muttered, lifting me off his lap to go back to work.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

He scratched the back of his head. "We made a fairly decent amount of money in this band before Tank took their hiatus—or retired. Whichever. But in all that time, I've only ever seen them play that one guitar. They could have bought a new one. A nicer one. A better one. They never did. They treated it like their baby. Not surprised they still take meticulous care about it."

I smiled as I went back to the text thread. "Maybe they'll return to performing, one day."

David shrugged. "Maybe."

I texted Tank back.

Me: OMG! So good to see you on stage again! Definitely haven't lost your touch. 100/10 would recommend. Vincent did the rest of the vocals justice, I can give him that. We miss you &lt;3

Tank: I miss you all too. But that's what dinner and the club is for when you all return to Dahlia. You are Going to meet up with me and No One is allowed to protest.

Me: Aye-aye, Captain!

They replied with a single emoji—flipping me off—and I threw back my head and laughed.

Milo wandered over with his gold mic stand in one hand. "Did I hear 'Tougher Than You' over 'ere?" he asked.

I switched back over to YouTube and showed him, Asher and Christian drifting closer over the course of the song.

Asher looked sad. "That's the sound I miss. I can never replicate it."

"You do a good job!" Asher's partner reassured him.

"It's not the same as when they do it," he mumbled, drifting off as the song ended and I paused the YouTube video again.

Me: I showed the rest of the band. Milo was smiling. Asher got kinda sad. Christian didn't react and David seemed a little nostalgic.

Tank: Wow. The big guy reacting visibly? I might pass out of shock XD

Me: We all miss you a lot

Tank: I know. But I'll see all of you soon Tank: Speaking of... what's the MatW tour schedule again? Have a screenshot you can send me?

Me: Of course. Let me dig it up. One sec

—

Tank

"So... who all knows about this?" Sam asked as we took our seats in the stadium. He hadn't been back to his hometown here in Mont Blanc in years—The House of Solaire tours always skipped it, opting instead for Atlanta due to some of Sam's bad memories in Mont Blanc—and seemed a little fidgety. Looking around like he might see people he knew.

In a leather jacket, a graphic T-shirt, jeans, and boots with his sleeve tattoos hidden and his distinct black piercings removed, no one in this crowd recognized him. Despite the fact that Milo and the Wolves and The House of Solaire shared a massive portion of fans.

Then again, this crowd had seen me perform on this very stage a few years ago, and none of them seemed to realize who I was either. One of Sam's flannels hiding one of the tank tops I used to perform in and a baseball cap on my head, I didn't even merit a double-take.

"The PR manager, the manager-manager, the security team, and Milo," I replied, settling into my seat. "That's it."

Sam looked around. "We're on the front row, darlin'. Dontcha think Ash and David will recognize you?"

I scoffed. "David won't be able to see me past the stage lights. He's too far back to make out anything in the crowd. Ash plays on the other side of the stage and won't be looking down here.

"If you say so."

The wait for the concert to start always seemed so much longer on this side of the stage. Backstage, I knew Asher's partner was running around frantically making sure everything was ready. Milo was pacing in the dressing room, wringing his gold-painted mic between his hands in order to not mess up his hair. David's partner, the PR manager, would be sitting in David's lap, letting him hold them tight enough to crack ribs if he squeezed just a little harder. Asher would have his head down on the makeup station, practically biting into his own arm to keep from clenching his jaw.

All that was missing was me sprawled out on the couch of the dressing room, spinning one of David's drumsticks between my fingers and needling them all to get them to chill as my own way of coping with nerves.

The band didn't get stage fright, but they were always anxious for everything to go well. Every show.

A playlist of old rock hits and a few new ones was filling the stadium as a crowd of fans filtered in. I kept the brim of my hat low just in case, and Sam looked stubbornly straight ahead. A few stage hands were putting the finishing touches on the setup. A few of them finishing the final soundcheck. The base drum of David's set rippled as it was struck, making the band logo flash in the stage lights.

Then the stage lights turned off and the stage was left empty, set up for each person. Any second now, tucked into the backstage clutter of equipment, the band's PR manager was setting one last thing up, hidden from the others. Aided and abetted by the band's main bodyguard and main manager.

"Waitin' feels long on this end," Sam remarked. "Nothin' to prep. No nerves to work through."

"Yup," I agreed.

"This what it's like every time you fly out to a show on the weekends with Vincent's partner?"

"Yup."

Sam swore under his breath. "I'm sorry."

I shrugged. "It's always worth it to watch my man perform." I leant close and pecked a quick kiss to his neck so I wouldn't bonk him with the brim of my hat.

We only exchanged a few words for the rest of the waiting time.

Until I snickered.

"What is it, darlin'?"

"Hear that?" I nodded toward the speakers in the ceiling playing the rock music.

"Yeah. 'Through the Fire and Flames.' Dragonforce, right?"

I smirked. "I begged David to let me put this on the playlist when we were first setting it up. Everyone else thought it was a little too much. I'm surprised they left it in the lineup after I backed out."

Sam gave me a look. "They care about you more than you think," he said.

The house lights faded out. The crowd's chattering went silent and still.

"Hello, and welcome!" a prerecorded announcement from a DJ friend back in Dahlia boomed over the speakers. We used to get a new one from him every year so it always sounded just a little bit different. "Everyone give it up for Milo and the Wolves!"

The crowd erupted into cheers and screams and whistles and clapping. Sam dared a glance around at the crowd, slightly curious.

My friends—who had been my only family for so long—ran out onto the stage, taking their positions.

Milo's eyes found mine immediately and he winked before waving at the crowd. "Good evening, Mont Blanc!" he called into his gold-painted microphone. "How's everybody doin' tonight?"

Sam passed me a pair of earplugs as the cheering grew even louder. We both put some in.

"A'right, a'right. Not bad," Milo said, exaggerating his East Coast accent a little. "Who's ready for a great lineup for tonight?"

More screams.

Milo nodded, pacing back and forth. "Good. As most of you know, we're on our 'Winter Solstice' album tour. But we got a few of our more popular hits sprinkled in too. I think you're all gonna have a great time tonight. Should we get started?"

The roar swelled.

Milo sucked the back of his teeth and sighed, pacing back toward Asher. "I dunno, Ash. I don't think they're ready. What do you think?"

Ash leaned close to his own mic. "I don't think they are." He chuckled. "What do you think, Mont Blanc? Are you ready to get started?!"

The cheers and screams were so loud it hurt even with the earplugs in.

This was the crowd I remembered. The House of Solaire crowds were loud and rowdy, but they were a lot of alternative rock fans. This was the true rock-and-roll crowd I loved.

"A'right. I think they're ready, Ash. Shall we?"

"Let's do this!"

Milo glanced back at David, but said nothing.

The same way Sam did, David knocked his sticks together to signal to the rest of the band the rhythm before slamming them down on his drums at the same moment Asher opened on a power chord.

Milo and the Wolves didn't believe in gentle openings. A stylistic choice leftover from when I was writing the instrumentation.

I smiled.

I knew every song. This was their second album without me, but they always sent me the album early. I could play along to every single recording by the third week, usually.

Their fifth song in, they played one of the popular ones from an old album. One I'd written.

Fighter's Spirit

Sam held my hand through most of the concert but let go of my hand so I could pretend his wrist and arm were my guitar's neck to play along out of sheer habit and muscle memory. He didn't seem to mind it so much.

"Baby, you know I got a fighter's spirit— "Can't give up, won't give in— "Know it's bad but ya gotta hear it—"

I'd written it based on something Milo's mom had said to me once. She and David's dad had been better parental figures to me than my own. Marie had once looked me dead in the face and told me I carried the spirit of a fighter lodged in my throat, barely bitten back by my teeth. Gabe had joked when he overheard that I was a wolf in human form, just waiting to bite someone.

And the name of the band had been born.

During a brief interlude so Milo could take a drink of water and work the crowd, Sam turned to me.

"You miss this, don't you." It was phrased like a question, but his voice made it a statement.

I blinked. My eyes were stinging a little. I hadn't blinked in several minutes, it felt like. "I... to an extent." I swallowed. There was a hollow feeling in my chest. One that the cheering around me made yawn wider—though the cheering used to fill it. Because it wasn't for me this time?

Sam squeezed my hand. "You're allowed to miss it, even if you don't want to go back to it," he remarked.

I didn't reply. I did miss this. Severely. But did I not want to go back?

Jury was still out on that.

A heavy bass line from Christian opening the next song after Milo's brief break to take a drink cued me on which song they were starting next.

Asher had written it, but back when I was still in the band and he played the bass instead of lead guitar.

I sang my harmonies and fingered the chords on Sam's arm while he smiled. As if I didn't catch him mimicking David's movements. We were both musicians and we felt our instruments in our souls.

A few more songs passed, Milo introduced the band to uproarious applause, and before I knew it, Intermission had arrived. The band ran off the stage to go dry off the sweat and change out of T-shirts and into dry tank tops. Where the crowd would certainly go wild at the sight of David's arms.

David felt like a brother to me and I'd never been attracted to him particularly but damn his arms were something else.

Of the band, I'd always been the only one to spend the whole concert in tank tops.

People filed out of the stadium for a break.

Sam turned to me. "You can go back, you know," he said softly. "You know these guys would take you back in a heartbeat."

I sucked in a deep breath and sighed. "I know."

"You wanna go back?"

"Yes and no. After Quinn and Nomadic... I just... you know what they tried to do to me. My image and reputation. Backing out of public life seemed the best idea at the time. And Asher's been a great lead guitarist."

Sam made a face. "You know we listen to y'all's albums on the tour bus while we're tourin', right?"

"You've mentioned it before, yeah."

Sam nodded. "Asher's a good lead guitar, sure. But he doesn't have the raw power you brought."

"Meaning what?"

"Asher..." Sam sucked in a breath. "Don't take this the wrong way, darlin', but you play like you're desperately fightin' to get somethin' outta you. It makes your sound heavy and raw. Ash doesn't have that. You can feel the difference between how he plays your songs and how you do. His technique is perfect but the feelin' behind it is all off." He made a face.

I mimicked it. "We'll see."

The rest of intermission was spent in silence between us.

Fact of the matter was, I did want to go back. But I couldn't admit that to Sam or myself. I didn't want to leave Sam. We'd end up seeing each other even less than we already barely could with him being the only one touring.

Get through tonight. Then unpack those feelings, I assured myself.

Eventually the house lights dimmed again. The band came back onstage. With no preamble or gentle opening to ease the audience back into the mood, they rocked into an opening. I smiled at the looks on my friends' faces. Still a little sweaty but mostly dried off. Absolutely high on the adrenaline of performing.

The crowd went nuts the whole song while I laughed and sang right along with them.

When the band reached the bridge of the song, I started to subtly unbutton Sam's flannel I was wearing, keeping it closed so my black-and-gold marbled-looking tank top was still hidden. One of my favorites to perform in, a couple years ago.

They reached the end of the song and I slouched in my seat, slipping the ball cap off my head and handing it, my earplugs, and the flannel to Sam.

Milo waited until the crowd settled a little. "Welcome back! Hopefully, everybody's had the opportunity the make their way back to their seats. Because we have a special surprise in store for everybody."

A few cheers. Scattered, and a bit confused. Most of the crowd seemed to just be waiting with bated breath for Milo to get on with it.

"It's been a couple years since we played this next song on tour. It never felt right, without the writer of it with us. You get to be the first ones to hear us play 'Tougher Than You' live on stage since Tank retired."

I saw David and Asher exchange a confused look.

Milo smiled conspiratorially at the crowd. Caught on the jumbotrons. "Because Tank is here tonight and gonna play it with us."

Asher's jaw dropped open and David's eyes widened as I popped out of my seat and hauled myself onto the stage. I whirled to face the stadium and waved, knowing the cameras were all on me.

The screams were loud enough to nearly knock me over. Milo threw an arm around me, lowering his mic to his side. "They never hated you," he said quietly. "Quinn failed."

I smiled at him and went to go get my guitar from backstage.

David shook his head. "Oh you sneaky motherf—" I didn't catch the rest because I turned away but I didn't need to catch it. I knew.

David's partner was beaming backstage beside Asher's partner and the band's security lead, holding my guitar out for me by the neck.

Grinning, I snatched it and threw the strap over my head, rushing back out with one hand held high, a pick flicking out of my leather cuff and into my fingers. I took a spot on the stage where I used to stand. Asher had taken a few steps back to give me room at his mic, plucking out the rhythm guitar part to remind himself what it was.

David knew this song even better than Sam did. So I didn't bother giving him a chance to count off the rest of the band before slamming into the opening.

Everything came naturally. Easily. Milo sang with the biggest smile on his face I'd ever seen during a show. I was at home, leaning my back against Asher's on the harmony. Feeling the stage lights' heat bead up sweat on my forehead and neck, David's drumbeat strong enough to sway my heartbeat to follow it.

Like I'd never left the stage behind.

Sam was right, I thought as I struck a hard chord. I do play like I'm fighting to get something out of me.

Because I was. I was fighting to get the music I felt in my soul out of my soul so the audience could feel it the way I did.

I'd written Tougher Than You from the perspective of me telling it to an ex of mine.

Now I sang and played it to Quinn, the same way I had onstage in Dahlia with Vincent and Sam and Alexis and Frederick. He'd allowed me to take a step back from the rockstar life—but he hadn't knocked me down permanently. I would always get back up and fight whatever he tried to do to me. I was tougher than everything that bastard could have ever thrown at me. I'd chosen the stage-name Tank as an inside joke. But it felt right now, in a way it hadn't before.

I was at home. With my band on my stage and my audience cheering me on with excitement.

Milo was right too. They never hated me.

As we hit the last note of the song, letting it sustain over the absolutely wild crowd, I panted with the biggest grin on my face.

I could get used to this feeling again, if I let myself.

Asher slung his guitar down its strap until it was upside-down on his back. I did the same, knowing what was coming. He crushed me into a hug, holding me tight. I ignored the slight stinging in my eyes. I was a damn rockstar—I wasn't going to cry onstage.

"God, I missed you, Tank," he said.

"Missed you too, buddy."

Milo rushed over and hit the hug on my side.

Next thing I knew, David was there too, arms encircling all three of us.

The crowd was still going wild.

When the cheering started to die down, I ran my guitar offstage and went back to my seat. Sam handed me my earplugs first, then my hat and flannel. Thankfully, the people sitting on either side of us respected us enough to leave us alone. And, to their credit, still didn't seem to recognize Sam.

—

Angel

"Tank!" I shouted, running across the backstage area after the concert was over. They held their arms out, letting me slam into them in a hug. "That was incredible!"

They laughed. "Thanks. Glad I could make it in time for Mont Blanc."

Sam chuckled from behind them. "Surprisin'ly, me too," he said softly. "Good reason and good way to come back."

I smiled at him too. "Thanks for accompanying our guitarist here," I teased. "Heaven knows they need it."

Tank glared at me playfully. I beamed.

David pressed a kiss to my head as he passed by. "Don't mind my menace too much, Tank," he remarked. "They do enjoy teasing."

Tank shrugged. "Feels like home, Davey."

That earned them a growl and an eye-roll.

I kept holding onto Tank in a hug. "So! What did you think?"

Tank glanced at where Milo, Asher, and Christian were helping the crew disassemble everything. "I'm gonna be honest, I missed this like hell. I wanna come back."

Asher's head whipped over at those words, smiling.

"I don't know if I'm ready just yet, but if you ever want me back..." They sniffed and wiped a quick, small tear that had escaped their eye. "I thought this was going to be one last show with this band. But I don't know if I'm ready to fully give it up."

"We'd take you back in a heartbeat," Milo said.

"Less!" Asher agreed.

Tank smiled. "When I'm ready, I'll let you know."

Sam kissed the side of their head. "There's my darlin'," he said quietly. "I knew the rockstar was still in there."

They laughed.

—

Tag list: @zozo-01 @thegoldenlittlerose @shellssstuff @darlin-collins @icedunderwaterroom @ajfromabove

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

Hit ‘Em Up! (18+ Fic)

Pairing: Cowboy!Gojo Satoru x Cowboy!Geto Suguru x Black!Cowgirl!Reader (Slow Burn/Enemies to Lovers)

Synopsis: You get to meet Geto & Gojo the Gunslingers, the notorious outlaws that have every town and law enforcement in a twist, when your bum-ass BF offers you as payment to avoid going to prison. Little do they know that this is only a part of your plan to get what you desire. But when you realize that the infamous gun-slinging, smooth-talking cowboys could be everything you want and more when they offer you a deal to team up with them, will you successfully be able to go through with it? 

Warnings: Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINOS GTFO); poly!SatouSugu; Reader is Black & Fem; Mention of other JJK characters; Porn with Plot; Tragic Backstories; T/W for Childhood Trauma, Parental Death, Violence, Panic Attacks & Torture; Angst/Hurt/Comfort; Hand Kink; Masturbation; Voyeurism; Gay Sex; Polyamorous; Double Deepthroat; Mutual Oral; Fingering; CMNF; Spitroast; Riding; Unprotected PiV Sex; Creampies; Outside/Public Sex; Shotgunning; Multiple Positions; Spit Kink; Facials; MDom/fsub Undertones; Aftercare

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Chapters: One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen PT I & II. Nineteen. Twenty. Twenty-One. Twenty-Two. Twenty-Three. Epilogue. Soundtrack.

********

TWENTY: MISSIN’ YOU.

The next morning, you wake with a smile to the sound of singing birds and stretch your arms to grab your men closer for a morning snuggle…only to feel nothing in return. 

Your eyes shoot open, your bliss and security destroyed.

You immediately shoot up out of bed, the bedsheet falling off of your naked breasts. The spaces beside you are empty and well-made as if the boys got up and straightened them without trying to wake you up during the late hours of the night. 

“Geto?” you call. “Gojo?”

There is no answer. Only the chirping of birds outside that doesn’t sound all that cheery to you anymore. Your body grows cold like you’ve been dipped in ice water as your anxiety peaks. 

“Oh, no,” you gasp, immediately filled with dread. You reach for the telephone, wanting to make a call to Nanami to see if he possibly saw the duo today, but a folded note next to your pistol stops you short. With shaky hands, you pick it up and read it: 

Dear, Y/N, 

If you’re reading this now, we’ve already left. We’re so sorry to have left you to wake up alone. You will probably hate us and we have to live with that forever knowing that we broke your heart.

We broke our own too. But this is for the best. 

Please believe us when we say that our time with you on the road and in Willow Springs have been the best of our lives. We are grateful to have met you and have fallen in love with you. There is truly no one like you and never will be. 

Please try to understand why we left. You don’t know Benji like we do. He is a horrible, violent man who will do more than just tie you to railroad tracks.

We could never forgive ourselves if something happened to you by his hands. We’re doing this to not only get vengeance for us but also for you. 

No matter what happens, please live your life to the fullest and safest. Be happy no matter who you end up with. Take care of yourself. 

Thank you for letting us into your life and your future.

Love you forever, G & G

With a horrified gasp, you drop the letter Immediately, you snatch up your robe and race out of your bedroom down the steps, your feet pounding down each stair.

You hear the sound of your mother’s laughter and hot coffee as you come down the last stair. “Papa!” you shout. “Mama!” 

You run to the kitchen where the two are. Eren is sitting at the breakfast table eating a scone while Yuri is stirring some sugar in her coffee. “Hey, look who’s finally awake,” she announces. “We got home early, so I stopped by a bakery and bought some blueberry…honey, what’s wrong?” 

Her smile fades, concern on her aged face. Eren turns to look at you, looking confused. “Where’s Geto and Gojo?” you hurriedly ask. “Did you see them this mornin’?” 

Eren shakes his head. “They left not too long ago at the crack of dawn,” he replies. “I was out tendin’ to the crops when we got home and they helped me out before takin’ off on their horses. Said they had some business to take care of out of town.” He squints at you. “Why?” 

Anyone would’ve thought he just said Geto and Gojo were murdered with the way you broke down in the kitchen. “Oh, no,” you sob, tears welling up in your eyes. “Oh, no, no, no!” 

Your parents stare at you, alarmed, especially when you bolt out of the kitchen. “Honey!” Yuri gasps. “Y/N, wait!” But you don’t wait. You can’t wait.

You snatch open the front door and race out of the house into the warm sun and unseasonably cool morning air. You immediately run across the field to the farm where the horse stables are.

‘Please,’ you think, desperation making your brain go haywire. ‘Please, please, please!’ 

But when you toss open the stables, you don’t see Geto or Gojo’s horses. You only see Reneigh and your parents’ two old mares who look at you as soon as you open the door. You stagger backward, the realization hitting you: they’re gone. They’ve left you here alone. 

But what about what they said last night? What about what happened between you? They said they would stay. They said they loved you. They— 

“Y/N!” Eren shouts. You turn around, your vision blurred with tears. Your dad comes running up to you, haggard from the quick movement. “What’s goin’ on?” he demands. “What happened?” 

You wrap your arms around yourself, your grief and shock coming in waves. “They left, Papa,” you sob. “They left and they’re not comin’ back! They left me!” You drop to your knees, your raw emotions making you feel weak. 

Eren swoops in to hold you, kneeling with you in the dirt. “Oh, sugar, no,” he shushes you. “They told me they’d be back.” 

You shake your head, tears rolling down your cheeks in steady streams. “No,” you whimper. “No, they lied! They left to go…to go…” You can’t finish the sentence. You won’t finish the sentence.

Eren presses your head to his chest, holding you close to him. “Shh, it’s alright,” he coos. “It’s goin’ to be okay, Y/N.” You grip onto his flannel, coating the fabric in your salty tears.

But nothing is okay. Nothing will ever be okay again.

[the-hinky-panda]

Yellowstone: Boss Mare Series - Part II

Boss Mare: Part II

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Jamie Dutton x Fem!Reader

Summary: Like most people who end up on the Yellowstone, you're running from something. You need to convince them to let you stay and hope that what you're running from, doesn't find you. But things are rarely that easy.

Warnings: Violence, language, sexual situations, mentions of religion, cults, and abuse

Jamie Dutton has seen a lot of strange things on the ranch but what his eyes currently land on has to be a first. Over the years, he’s watched plenty of wranglers shoulder a bag of their belongings, sometimes even a well-worn saddle, and start that long walk down the dirt road off the ranch until they come across someone willing to drive them into town. But rarely has he seen one walking onto the ranch. 

Certainly not a woman in brand new clothes and an equally new bag. There’s no wear to your clothes. The way you’re walking is the standard tender stride of someone whose boots haven’t been broken in just yet. Your hair is braided neatly, almost militaristic in its precision. He pulls over just a few feet in front you and rolls down his window. Your pace doesn’t even falter as you approach his car. 

“Can I help you?” 

You stand a couple feet away from him, your eyes meeting his with a determination that he usually sees in the courtroom but nowhere else. “I’m going to the Dutton Ranch. I need a job.” 

“What do you do as a hand?” 

Your head tilts slightly in confusion. 

“What is your speciality?” he amends. “Do you wrangle? Rope? Break horses? Rodeo?” 

You slowly shake your head. “I work hard and I can cook.” 

This isn’t promising. Just another person who watched John Wayne and fell in love with the dream of ranching. God love dreamers because cowboys certainly don’t. He knows the ranch already has a cook. Gator has been with the family since Jamie returned from Harvard. And having a cowgirl hopeful in the bunkhouse would be a disaster waiting to happen. Given your obvious lack of experience and an overall sense of wide-eyed wonder that you give off, he wouldn’t have to wait long for the disaster. “Look, I can take you to the ranch and maybe one of the hands can take you back to Bozeman-” 

“I just came from Bozeman.” 

Jamie looks in the rearview mirror. He doesn’t remember passing a car, parked or broken-down. “How did you get here from Bozeman?” 

“I walked.” 

“I’m sorry, you walked?” The distance from the ranch to Bozeman was over two hundred miles. 

“Yes, sir. I walked.” 

Jamie puts the car in park. Surely you’re lying. It would take about three days to walk that distance.“And how long did that take you, exactly?” 

“I’m on my third day.” 

Your answer is straightforward and with no hesitation. It’s true. You really have walked from Bozeman. Holy shit, that’s impressive. You may be a dreamer but you’ve got some grit. There’s still about seven miles until you reach the gates and then another two miles of driveway before you reach the main house. He moves his briefcase and legal folders from the passenger seat into the backseat of the car. 

“Get in, I’ll take you the rest of the way.” 

You start towards the passenger side of the car but then stop. “How do I know that I can trust you?” 

It’s the first time you say something that resembles common sense. He pulls out his wallet and shows you his driver’s license. You nod when you see the last name Dutton and open the passenger side door. You settle yourself in the leather seat, buckling your seatbelt and setting the backpack between your feet on the floorboards. You stare straight ahead, hands folded neatly on your lap, standard position for someone who is trying to take up as little physical space as possible. 

God, he knows what that feels like. 

“Thank you, Mr. Dutton.” 

He sighs and puts the car in drive. “Jamie. Call my father Mr. Dutton.” 

You nod taking in the information. “Do you do the hiring at the ranch? Or Mr. Dutton? Who do I talk to about a job?” 

Jamie nods. “My father has the final say on hires.” Especially the longshot hires, he almost adds. “Why are you so set on working for the Yellowstone? Why not another ranch?” 

You stare at your tightly interlocked fingers. “You’ll laugh at me if I tell you my reason. Why isn’t it enough to just want to work here?” 

“Ranching is not as easy as it looks. You can’t just walk in off the street and do it. Any cowboy worth their salt is born into the life. And if you’re not born into it, then you better pray to God someone gives you a chance to prove yourself.” 

He sees your head turn towards him and he catches a shit-eating grin cross your face. He realizes now what your reason is for wanting to work on the Yellowstone. You prayed. And he then stopped to drive you the last few miles. He scoffs. “Look, if you’re on a ranch, it’s either because you were born there or you’re just out of options. It’s place for misfits and outlaws. There’s nothing romantic about it.” 

“Which one are you?” 

Jamie clenches his jaw to keep the word misfit from escaping his mouth. Yes, he was born to the rancher life but that wasn’t what his father wanted him to do. He had another job, still for the ranch, but certainly not the one that he wanted. He would trade all the files, dockets, and suits for a good horse, worn saddle, and a Stetson. But it’s so easy to fall back into the script that has become his reality. “I was born to it.” 

“You could say that God chose you to be a rancher.” 

“If you believe in God, sure.” That’s as good an explanation as any. 

“Maybe you won’t laugh at my reason then.” 

“God told you to come work at the Yellowstone. Yeah, got that.” Jamie does laugh at that. “That has to be a first. Make sure you tell that to my father.” 

“I will.” A small smile creeps across your face. “That will make me memorable, interesting.” 

Jamie shakes his head as they pass through the front gate. “Be careful what you wish for, that’s all I’m going to say.” 

But when the lights of the lodge come into view, the large house sitting on a small hill, the look of hope that crosses your face is almost painful to see. He should tell you to run as far away as possible from this place. That whatever you think of the Yellowstone is just some fairytale dream that you’ve imagined. That God didn’t tell you to come here because God is love, merciful, and kind. There will be no love, mercy, or kindness found on this land. 

Not now. 

Not ever. 

[baby-alien11]

being in a relationship with Chad after Livs death

part 1

Loosing Liv was a big shock for you and Chad, but you two promised to try to continue with your lives without forgeting her

Right after finishing high school, the core five like Chad likes to call you, moved to New York to go to university and try to get over what happen in Woodsboro

While Sam and Tara got an appartment close to Blackmore with a roomate named Quinn; Chad, Mindy and you stayed at the dorms of the university

Fortunately, you and Mindy managed to stay as roomates, but Chad ended up with a guy named Ethan, who was a bit shy and quiet

During the first night in the dorms, while you were trying to sleep, outside the dorm you heard a door being slammed, making you flinch

That sound remind you of that night in Woodsboro with all the gunshots, screams and hits

Taking a glance at Mindy, you saw that she was completely sleep in her bed

Being careful to not make any noise, you put one of Chads sweatshirts over your tank top and shorts, your crocs and took your phone to make your way to Chads room

"Hey, I know it's late, but I couldn't sleep", you said at the moment that he openned the door, "I heard a door being slammed and associated with a gunshot and..."

Interrupting you, Chad pulled you into a thight hug noticing the silent tears in your eyes while pressing a kiss in your forehead

"It's okay, baby, it's okay", Chad asured you making you enter the room closing the door in the process, "Come on, let's go to sleep"

Of course, the next morning your phone was bombarded with texts and calls from Mindy asking you where you were

During your first months on New York things seemed to be back to normal

You and Chad continue to had a strong relationship, Mindy started dating a girl named Anika, and Ethan and Quinn were added to the friend group, but Sam and Tara started to have discussions and problems

Almost all the weekends, you stayed in Chads room to do the homework that was assigned and then have a movie marathon (everything except slashers because of what happened), so it wasn't strange to Ethan to walk and see you there or some of your things gattered around

Gym dates in the college gym, mostly at the hours when nobody was there

You loved watching him while he was doing his arms, shoulders and back routines, especially because he didn't use a shirt

And he loved to wacth and help you with your legs rutine, especially because you liked to wear thight shorts or leggins with a sports bra

When Halloween was around the corner, the group made plans to go to a party that one of the fraternities was organizing

That meant couples costumes

"Okay, this idea is good and cheap", Chad said with excitment, "Cowboys"

"Like in the aesthetic space cowboys or simply cowboys?", you asked taking a sip of your iced coffee

"Like in a sexy cowgirl and sexy cowboy", Chad specified, "Just think about it for a second, it's simple and we can do it with things in our closets, well, except the hats and that is the only thing we have to buy"

"Fine", you sighed, "But next year I choose the costumes"

When the Halloween party arrived, you decided to wear a white short-sleeved sweetheart neckline crop top, a short tight denim skirt, white heeled ankle boots with a pink cowboy hat

But when you arrived at Chads room he recieved you with a nice view

"Howdy, cowboy", you greeted recorring his whole look with your eyes, "Ready to go to the rodeo?"

"Only if certain cowgirl goes with me", Chad responded taking you by your waist, "And we can have a little fun after that"

"I love that idea", you smiled surrounding his neck with your arms

"Please don't do that in front of me", Ethan interrupted from inside the room finishing his costume, "I don't want to witness how you eat eachother faces"

Hearing that made you both blush a little and smile with fun before sharing a small kiss and approching the boy to help him finish his diy costume

That was other thing, you and Chad kinda adopted Ethan as your 19 year old child

Inmediatly after arriving at the party, the three of you went to the kitchen to grab some drinks

After failing in trying to get Ethan to meet someone, you and Chad decided to step into the improvised dancefloor that was asigned in the house without leaving the rest of the group

Basically, things were doing great in the party, until Anika aproached to say that there was trouble with Tara

Preocupied for your friend, you, Chad and Ethan run with Anika and Mindy towards the stairs were a drunk Tara was with some random guy who was trying to get his way with her

Right before the random guy and Chad started fighting, Sam appeared tasing the guy in his intimate parts leaving him on the floor

"Sam, can I borrow your taser?", you asked before leaving, "I saw someone dressed as ghostface"

"No, you have your own", Sam answered, "Let's go"

"Come on cowgirl", Chad said lifting you in his arms, "The rodeo is already over"

"Good thing I had a cowboy to ride", you joked circling his neck and waist with your arms and legs

"You are so gross", Mindy complained

Unfortunately, things after leaving the party were worse because some girls decided to throw their drinks at Sam for thinking that she was the murderer of Richie and Amber

Only to getting worse by watching on the news how there was a ghostface attack leaving three victims

The next day, after Sam and Tara were attacked by ghostface and interrogated by the police, Mindy started with her monologue about this time being in a franchise and how everyone could be the killer

In order to feel more safe, the whole group decided to have a sleepover in the Carpenter department, except for Ethan who had econ

Things were chill at the beggining, with the core five at the dinning room talking, while Anika sit at the living room and Quinn was at her room with her new hook up

But then, an airdrop photo by Danny, one of the neighbors and Sams new boyfriend was sent to all your phones

In that photo, ghostface was seen in Quinns room next with a couple of hits on the wall

That's when the chaos started, at the moment that Quinns dead body was thrown out of her room, but while trying to stop him or hurt him, Mindy was cut in her arm, you were stabbed in the leg, but Anika had the worst injurie of all because she was stabbed and cut on her torso

Fortunately, the seven of you mannaged to barricade in Quinns room, even better, Danny achieved to cross a stair in between the windows, being Sam the first to pass, next to Tara and then there was Chad to help the rest pass

"Baby, don't look down", Chad said when your turn came, "Just look at me"

"I don't like heights", you cried trying to do what he told you, "My leg hurts"

"I know, I know", Chad answered, "Just do what I said and cross, it would be quick, I promise"

Paying attention at his instruction, you succeded to cross inmediatly falling into Chads arms in form of relief while sobbing, at what him kissed your forehead and circled you in his arms to try to calm you

Mindy also mannaged to pass, but Anika being the most injured was struggling to do it, everything went worse when ghostface appeared and started shaking the ladder, causing her to fall and die instantly, leaving everyone devastated for loosing two friends the same night

The morning after the attack, Detective Bailey took the group along with Gale Weathers and Kirby Reed to an abandoned teather were a Stab/Ghostface shrine was, impressing everyone because all the things related with the victims were there

Things led to a plan to caught ghostface during the light of day, which didn't work because Gale was severilly hurt

Another plan was made, caught ghostface at the shrine

Taking the subway to go there, the group was separated due to all the people in costumes for Halloween, while you, Chad, Sam, Tara and Danny mannaged to stick together, Mindy and Ethan had to go on the next one

The entire ride was full of tension because of some people dressed as ghostface

But fortunately, the five of you mannaged to arrive safely at the shrine, but Danny decided to stay outside

While Sam and Tara stayed in the shrine, you and Chad found yourselves in the old snack station

"How's your leg?", Chad asked standing in front of you while you were sitting in the counter

"They gave me enough pain killers so I don't feel anything", you answered making him laugh lightly, "I can't believe this is happening again"

"You know, after catching this motherfucker we should go on vacations, just you and me in a nice beach drinking cocktails", Chad suggested positioning himself in between your legs while taking your waist, "And we should adopt a pet and named them Iggy"

"Iggy? Like in Jojo's Bizarre Adventure?", you smiled with your arms around his neck

"Yeah", Chad smiled, "So, what do you think?"

"The vacations at the beach sounds perfect, but we will disscuss the name of the pet", you laughed

Just like always, things went down pretty quickly after ghostface appeared behind you stabbing you in the back, causing Chad to fight them back leaving them in the floor

Trying to scape, the four of you run to the entrance only to find that it was locked

While looking for another exit, ghostface appeared again slicing Taras arm and destroying sme things from the shrine, at what Chad hit them with a camera

Running again, the grup returned to the candy station being chased by the killer, at what the four of you tried to fight him back

"Go, go!", Chad exclaimed making you three get away a little

When he was about to hit ghostface with a candy machine, another one appeared behind to stab him, making you scream in pain causing Sam and Tara to try to hold you, while Chad was being stabbed by the two of them

"Let me go!", you screamed toward the sisters, "I can't loose him too!"

Mannaging to release yourself from them, you took the swiss army knife that you always carry from your pocket to stab one of the ghostface in the shoulder

"Leave my fucking boyfriend alone, bitch!", you said twisting the knife

Unfortunately, that wasn't enough because they also started to stab you and Chad simultaneously, while you both were looking into each others eyes, until they let you both fall on the floor

The last thing you knew before passing out was that Sam and Tara mannaged to run and the bloody hand of Chad taking yours

When you didn't think you would wake up again, you did looking at a white celling, a little confused you looked down noticing an IV and other medical cables connected to your body, looking arund the room you saw that Mindy, Sam, Tara and Kirby sleeping in the sofas, Chad was sleeping in the chair next to your bed

"What the hell happened?", you said in low voice

That little phrase was enough to everyone to wake up inmediatly, while Kirby left to get a doctor

"Please tell me that we are alive", you said making everyone laugh

"With stitches but yes", Chad answered caressing your hair, "How you feeling?"

"Like a bus ran over me over and over", you responded staring into his eyes, "And you?"

"Just like you", he smiled

"You are not going to believe who was ghostface", Mindy exclaimed standing in front of the bed, "They were Detective Bailey, Quinn and Ethan!"

"No fucking way", you commented with surprise, "I though Quinn was dead"

"They were the father and siblings of Richie, she faked it", Sam explained, "They wanted vengeance for me killing him, but now they all together in hell"

"So, which of them was the one I stabbed?"

"Ethan, and then I killed him stabbing his mouth and throwing a TV in his head", Tara answered

"The same one that killed Stu Macher", Mindy added

"And I killed Quinn and Detective Bailey", Sam continued

"The core five survived again!", Chad yelled making all of you laugh

[rockstaryuta]

ASTEROID BLUES is a cowboy-bebop inspired, x afab! reader fic series that revolves around the futuristic misadventures of easygoing bounty hunter, ln yn.

──── ✈︎ asteroid blues ...

info. wanted posters are not full plot synopsis. for individual fic information, please click on the 'here' underneath each section. sfw fics will be posted on 00127AM, while all nsfw works will be posted on ROCKSTARYUTA.

soundtrack. tank! seatbelts young jesus logic kimidakenotenshi soul scream interlude: past to present nct u

living bounty to bounty, who's your first target?

WANTED DEAD OR ALIVE ──── ✈︎ sfw johnny suh ⌖ space cowboy ― fellow bounty hunter wanted for his ... unorthodox methods. the only problem? he's hunting you too. SESSION I. black dog serenade kim jungwoo ⌖ high roller ― wanted for a number of debts owed to some of the galaxy's most powerful syndicates. try not to get too distracted by that charm of his, or else you'll find yourself toeing the line between professional and personal. SESSION II. gateway shuffle huang guanheng ⌖ bartender ― wanted for the commodification and underground auction of information. secrets traded for a drink. watch your words and your glass. SESSION III. easy come, easy go lee donghyuck ⌖ con artist ― wanted for fraud, embezzlement, and that silver tongue of his that seems to constantly get him into trouble. or save him from it. whatever you do, just don't manage to become his next mark. SESSION IV. see you space cowgirl, someday, somewhere! liu yangyang ⌖ pilot ― wanted for illegal gambling and racing. in his world, the most important thing is staying one step ahead--so don't fall behind. SESSION V. boogie woogie feng shui zhong chenle ⌖ heir ― wanted for his outrageously large fortune tied to his namesake. he's playing a dangerous game in the galaxy's elite circles, so tread carefully, lest you become entangled with his high-stakes world. SESSION VI. honky tonk woman oh sion ⌖ journalist ― wanted for learning something he shouldn't have, wrong place, wrong time. whatever you do, don't underestimate him. after all, you know what they say, the pen is mightier than the sword. SESSION VII. stray dog strut maeda riku ⌖ thief ― wanted for his most audacious heist yet. a heist that involved stealing from the wrong person this time around. a person who wants the phantoms thief's head on a platter. be vigilant, or you might miss him before you even know he's there. SESSION VIII. see you space samurai click here if you have any further information about these fugitives

BOUNTY WORTH ₩2,500,000

WANTED DEAD OR ALIVE ──── ✈︎ ®️ nsfw moon taeil ⌖ ceo ― wanted for the enterprise he has built from the ground-up. it's a shame that the only way to get to him is to become his personal assistant. SESSION IX. you're gonna carry that weight lee taeyong ⌖ hacker ― wanted for the infiltration and theft of millions of megabytes from the 119 conglomerate. he probably knows where you are before you do. ever heard of a digital footprint? SESSION X. cowboy funk nakamoto yuta ⌖ hit man ― wanted for the assassination of the galaxy's most prominent politician. watch your back. in his line of work, you rarely see him until it's too late. SESSION XI. hard luck woman qian kun ⌖ igp officer ― wanted for arresting the son of one of the most notorious cartels in the galaxy. he's not very willing to roll over and be captured, certainly not when he's trying to arrest you. SESSION XII. waltz for venus kim doyoung ⌖ doctor ― wanted for preforming back room operations and illegal modifications. his medical expertise is only second to his ethical ambiguity. try not to lose a limb. SESSION XIII. ganymede elegy xiao dejun ⌖ entertainer ― wanted for his most recent scandal involving a heated affair with the igp chief's wife. one that was destined to end poorly from the start. the world is his stage, avoid getting caught in the spotlight. SESSION XIV. pierrot la fou mark lee ⌖ collector ― wanted for the prized artifact that lies deep within his vault. seems like your employer is willing to do anything to get their hands on it, including sending you to charm your way into stealing it. SESSION XV. brain scratch lee jeno ⌖ informant ― wanted for the dissemination of information regarding neo zone tech. hailed as a whistleblower, he's wanted galaxy-wide. just don't believe everything he says, or you might just find yourself amidst one of his rumors. SESSION XVI. sympathy for the devil click here if you have any further information about these fugitives

taglist. @evilsailorsenshi @222brainrot @firstdonutllamafarm @yangasm @sunflowerbebe07 @scinclaitnoir @hyuka-bby thank you for supporting me! ♡ ⤷ for those who are / are not on my general taglist : please let me know if you would like to be included on any of these fics taglist!

──── ✈ see you space cowboy ...